Depths of Balance
by polarocean
Summary: The Pegasus Gate has been opened, but how will this story differ from what we know? A more expanded retelling of the original Stargate Atlantis, with several new crossover characters joining the Expedition to the Lost City. AU. Major Crossover
1. Chapter One: Ghostly Ice

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: One – Ghostly Ice

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback:** Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers:** I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

**Note:** A more expanded AU retelling of the Stargate Atlantis series, with several new crossover characters to spice up the the storyline.

**Warning**: Includes heterosexal, homosexual, lesbian characters. We're equal opporuntity here, if you don't like that, don't bother to read and then complain.

* * *

The elevator car groaned against the overhead cable, the cold air stressing the metal as it pressed deeper into the ice shaft.

Doctor Elizabeth Weir rubbed her eyes, trying to whip the exhaustion and failing as the burning sensation again rose behind her corneas. The coffee this morning hadn't helped and while she was tempted to requisition some stimulants from the medical office the thought of her body running on a drugs was not something she wanted.

"_Operations to all personnel_," the overhead PA echoed in the cabin, most of its occupants didn't even look up at the speaker above them. "_General O'Neill is inbound. ETA twenty minutes_."

The ruffling of papers across from her drew her attention to the dark haired woman standing ridge in the center of the car, her blue lab coat hanging over the gray coveralls standard to the base personnel. She rifled through a stack of reports, the pages bending in the crisp, frozen air as the woman's intense gaze bore into the paper so hard, Elizabeth would bet it would catch fire at any moment

"Ready for the inspection?" Elizabeth piped up, trying to garner the attention of her hyper-focused subordinate.

Across from her Doctor Temperance Brennan didn't even look up to take notice of her superior.

"I believe General O'Neill will be pleased with the skeletal recovery we made last week," the scientist responded without even looking at Elizabeth. "All three skeletons found down in section five are older than anything previously dated by anthropological science. I should be finished with the skull reconstruction by tomorrow but still lack several fragments of the frontal-"

"All work and no play isn't healthy, Dr. Brennan," Weir sneered over at the other woman.

"My dedication to completing my assignment at this facility is not hazardous to my personal health," Temperance argued in her usual hyper-analytic way, though she still refused to look up from her work.

In the three months since the International Oversight Advisory established this base over the Ancient Outpost, Weir had rarely seen Dr. Brennan outside her lab unless they had found another frozen corpse during their excavation of the alien structure. Her experience in forensic anthropology had been invaluable to the scientific discovery that continued to pour from this base but her social interactions with the staff were almost non-existent.

If it wasn't a staff meeting, grabbing a bit to eat or something directly related to her work, the woman rarely made time for small talk.

"And from what I hear you used your last liberty off base to catalogue mass graves in Peru," Weir teased. "Next time we get time off, maybe you should go to the beach… and not one with police tape roping it off."

"Solar exposure is one of the leading causes of skin cancer," Temperance answered as she closed one folder, drew another from the bottom of her stack and began to read into the next. "That would be hazardous to my personal health."

"Dr. Brennan," Elizabeth's voice warned, her already exhausted state was taking her patience to its limits."

"I'll take it under consideration," Brennan finally relented, even making eye contact with Weir to satisfy her.

The near eternal descent finally reached its destination. The cage, grated door slide out of the frame and the riders began to disembark, Doctor Brennan quickly disappearing off into her work space at the back of the main cavern as Elizabeth moved towards the center of operations. She was barely five feet onto the main cavern when her first subordinate intercepted her.

"Dr. Weir," Peter Gordin, her chief scientific attaché, joined her in stride, handing over a stack of files that Elizabeth reluctantly took, "those officer profiles you requested."

"Thank you, Peter," she smiled half-heartedly. "Hopefully I can get through these faster than those military dossiers."

Smiling at the completion of his duty, Peter split off to continue his research elsewhere, giving her at least a few seconds of peace before the next barrage of duty hit.

"Dr. Weir," Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Davis, the military liaison for the excavation project here, smiled as he crossed paths with his superior. "Up early?"

"General O'Neill is going to be here any minute," the expedition leader grinned. "I never went to bed. Off to greet the General?"

"Yes, sir," the man grinned. "Figured a familiar face would keep his jokes in line."

"Then we commend you for your efforts," Weir smirked. "Good luck."

She had just managed to get herself around the first few work stations when another voice called for her attention.

"Doctor Weir!" Elizabeth turned in time to see the dark haired man skirt around a supply pallet. Miraculously he managed not to slide across the icy floor as he rolled to stop before her.

"Ianto," she made a mental note that she managed to address the man without too much annoyance in her voice, "what can I do for you now?"

She didn't necessarily dislike Ianto Jones.

Actually found his dedicated yet mild-manner attitude and incredible intelligences mixed with his dry Welsh sarcasm to be very enjoyable, not to mention his masterful skill at brewing a hot cup of coffee. It was the fact that his position at the Antarctic base was the liaison for the International Oversight Advisory and message boy for the bureaucratic nonsense that plagued her day and night that made his appearance the bane of her work here.

"Representative LaPierre is trying to fight you over the involvement of Dr. Risi in the expedition," Ianto explained as he joined her in stride. "He believes the Doctor's status as of Saudi Arabian citizen to be a breach of security for Stargate treaty."

"Tell LaPierre that Mohammed Risi is the top thermochemist in the world," Elizabeth tried to hide the rising frown that was growing on her lips, "and signed a non-disclosure agreement over three years ago before there was an IOA. If he wants to fight me he can but that could also mean the _security_ of the French members of the Expedition could be called into question. They have after all only been part of the Stargate program for barely a year."

Ianto seemed to receive her veiled threat with a knowing smirk.

"I will relay the message during the next update to the IOA," the man accepted. "I guess I'll see you at the general briefing with General O'Neill later today?"

"Bring a cup of your world famous coffee and you can bet your life on it," Elizabeth smiled, gaining a curt nod from the man headed off to the awaiting elevator for its ascent upward to the surface.

Elizabeth headed deeper into the heart of her operation.

"You see," a thick Scottish accent echoed from the central chamber, "nothing!"

Entering the room, she noted the two men in a heated discussion. One seemed to be using a cold, grey chair seemingly carved from the ground itself, as a barrier to keep each other at bay while the other was turning several shades of red. Behind them a beautiful Asian woman sighed at the nearby computer station overlooking the two men, managing a glare over her thick rimmed glasses at the two men who were acting like infants.

"Carson!" Doctor Rodney McKay shouted, the astrophysicist attempting to chase after his lost subject. "Get back here!"

The Scotsman almost made his escape, that is if Weir wasn't blocking the only exit to the room.

"I could sit in that chair all bloody day long and nothing would happen! It's a waste of time." Doctor Carson Beckett shouted back to his pursuer, taking one glance at his project supervisor before quickly sidestepping her. "Excuse me, Dr. Weir."

"He's not even trying," McKay grumbled, arms crossed and obviously fuming. "We need him for this work and he doesn't want anything to do with it. It's that right Toshiko?"

"My analysis program only seems to register activity when Dr. Beckett is at the controls," Dr. Toshiko Sato spoke with a smile, her British accent adding to her already exotic appearance, "but Dr. McKay is not helping to ease his concerns."

"What am I doing?!" Rodney shouted back at the woman in disbelief, his tone jumping several octaves.

"He is the one who discovered the gene that this technology responds to," Elizabeth tried to sooth Rodney, though trying to get a viper not to bite you would be easier.

"He said he wished he never had the gene!" Rodney retorted.

"Really," Weir inquired. "We could always test you a third time."

"That's very funny," McKay was not amused though, mockery dripping from his mouth.

"We've only found a handful of people," Elizabeth sighed, "who are genetically compatible with the Ancient technology and despite your heroic efforts to interface ours with theirs. We need every one of them to sit in this chair, including Dr. Beckettt."

"What am I suppose to do?" the scientist protested. "He's afraid of that thing."

"This chair controls the most powerful weapons known to Humankind," she almost had to laugh at the irony, still she was a bit hesitant to touch it for that very fear. "I'm even afraid of the thing. But every time someone sits in it we learn something new about the Ancients who built this outpost. Dr. Beckettt should be proud he's genetically advanced."

The statement stung and Weir knew her remark hit the target.

"Not more advanced," Rodney snorted. "It's... it's a random characteristic in ten percent of the population."

"I know this whole gene thing bothers you, Rodney," Elizabeth laughed. "I'm sure if you ask nicely Carson will come back... and you are not to bother General O'Neill while he is visiting. Is that understood?"

The grumbling remark was measured by a simple bow, allowing her to know the message had gotten across.

"Dr. Sato," Weir smiled to the woman behind Rodney as she rose from her station, "Can you lend a hand?"

"I'll go talk to Carson," the computer expert sighed. As she began to exit Rodney tried to follow after her before she pushed him back. "You stay here!"

Stammering breaths caught their attention, signaling someone else had entered chair room.

"Ah.... just the... just the people I need to see," Doctor Daniel Jackson smiled as he tried to catch his breath. "I think... think I found it."

* * *

The bones weren't bleached white like you would find in the desert, dried and pecked clean of all debris. Instead they were dirty, bits of god knows what was still clinging to its ivory even after millions of years in the snow.

Bitter cold, endless frost and being buried so far below the ice wind would never touch them; the body was remarkably well preserved even if its flesh had wilted away.

A fine pair of tweezers clipped back several bits of material from what was once a man's ribcage, eagerly placing the recovery into a nearby Petri dish before returning to search for more.

"What have found for me, Zack?" Doctor Brennan inquired as she flew into the room, her lab coat billow in the frigid air as she deposited her case files onto the nearest work table.

"Some particulates lodged into the occipital lobe," her assistant Doctor Zack Addy explained as he handed over his discovery to his mentor and superior before stripping off his plastic gloves. "They appear to be a sedimentary rock of some kind. I was about to forward them on for further examination."

"Good work," Temperance nodded, a bit limited but from Doctor Brennan the act was high praise for the usually emotionally disconnected woman. "If you'd like to observe I'll begin my preliminary overview of the body."

"I would very much like to," Zack eagerly accepted, as he took his position at the opposite end of the examination table and skeleton laid out in front of them.

The click of a tape recording being set alerted Zack that the overview had begun, as Brennan dove into the examination.

"This is Doctor Temperance Brennan, Senior Forensic Anthropologist for Stargate Command. Beginning preliminary overview of John Doe 021," Brennan placed the recording device near her lips as she leaned in to get a better view of the remains. "Skeleton was recovered from excavation section five approximately two-days ago along with three other bodies. Clothing found on the deceased leads me to confirm this individual is an Ancient. Body appears to be approximately twenty to twenty-five years at time of death. Pelvic structure denotes male, possibly Caucasian from the structure of the skull. Thigh bones suggest he was tall though probably suffered from a limp from the increase calcium deposits on the left femur. Will forward a born scrapping to McMurdo for confirmation of age."

"If carbon dating is correct," Zack excitement may have not been apparent in his near robotic voice but Brennan could tell the boy was bubbling with anticipation, "like with the others, this individual died around the time that Australopithecus had begun their spread across the African continent. That could push the time homo-sapiens evolved back farther than ever theorized."

"I want a full work-up," Temperance ordered as she clicked her taped recorder off, "get an X-ray before you start talking core samples."

"The X-ray machine is not functioning again," Zack paused, "Doctor Zelenka said he would have it back to us in approximately one hour."

"That's the third time this month," Temperance complained. "This project is an archeological find but the conditions are hampering our results."

"Cold weather conditions usually have an adverse affect on equipment," her assistant confirmed. "Shall I wait for Doctor Zelenka to return-"

"_Operations to all personnel_," the overhead PA chimed through the lab. "_General O'Neill is inbound. ETA ten minutes_."

"Might as well hold off for now," Temperance sighed. "With the General on base the likelihood is small we will receive the equipment on time. Get something to eat and when I'm back from the debriefing we'll continue on."

"Yes, Doctor Brennan," Zack nodded as he began to pull off his lab coat and deposit it at his desk.

Brennan made ready to give her report, snatching a few more of her department files, progress readouts and recent findings for presentation. While her work was vital to understanding the biology and lives of the Ancient bodies being excavated here, she still had to justify her work to those providing their funding. Her civilian work back at Jeffersonian in Washington D.C. had prepared her well with dealing with such individuals, being a facility largely dependent on the gracious funding from people like the Cantilever Group, who ironically we also provided funding to the Stargate program, at least unknowingly.

"Doctor Brennan," a man entered the lab, his head of dark hair a stark contrast to the grey jumpsuit he wore. "I don't believe we've met yet, I'm Ianto Jones, the IAO liaison for operations here in Antarctica. I was just-"

"I promise not to embarrass anyone this time," Temperance interrupted him before he could get any further, she knew the reason he was here and had been expecting him for the better part of the day.

Ianto however had been forewarned of Doctor Brennan, both from rumor and from her very large personnel file.

"Embarrassment is one thing," he warned. "Assault is another."

"I apologized to the Homeland Security guard," the scientist shrugged.

"I was referring to the incident last week with Sergeant Wilmer and Major Nikiski," Ianto was not amused even if he knew humor was not one of Doctor Brennan's strong suits, "but let's leave that one open to interpretation for now. You're lucky you weren't removed from this facility after you broke Nikiski's nose and Wilmer's leg. Representative Xiaoyi and Markov are making it clear at no point is physical violence to be used while General O'Neill is present."

"Understood Mr. Jones," Temperance accepted. "I will not break, sever or remove any bones while the General is here."

"I'll let the '_remove'_ comment slide for now," Ianto's eyes narrowed a bit more.

"Ah… hello, Mr. Jones," Zack smiled as he approached the man, having filed his final reports for the day. "I was unaware you would be visiting today. "If I had known you were coming I would have prepared our budgetary reports and supply requisition forms."

"That is alright, Zack," Ianto managed a smile, "I'll be back around tomorrow to pick them up as scheduled. Good day."

He nodded to both the scientists before making his leave back into the main facility, though Temperance was more interested in the fact her assistant seemed to be fidgeting since the moment Ianto had entered the lab.

"Zack," Temperance managed to keep her composure as a smile perked on her lips, "were you attempting to flirt with the IOA liaison?"

"Yes, Doctor Brennan though I have seemed to failed," Zack responded in his usual squeaky monotone type way. "Males often bond by exaggerating sexual conquests or mutual interest. As discussion of sexual inter-course with a coworker can be grounds for harassment I decided to attract Mr. Jones' attention with my promptness and dedication, a quality I hear he displays often in himself."

It was true that Zack didn't get out enough, probably even less then she did. The Antarctic facility had only around sixty people on duty so social and even romantic interest was inevitable. However those who were part of the forensic anthropology team didn't enjoy that luxury.

They worked with dead bodies; bodies that had died millions of years ago but thanks to the preservative effects of the ice looked like they had only perished days before. Dealing with death in a facility dedicated to discovery was something that ostracized them from most of their colleagues here.

While Temperance could easily deal with the limits to their social situations she knew Zack came from a very large family, a lack of personal interaction would eventually begin to wear on him and soon his professional work.

"Some male libidos are also inflamed by proximity to violence, according to my research," Brennan offered. "Next week's movie night is '_Terminator_', you would find it interesting for its cybernetic engineering merit."

"Thank you for the suggestion, Doctor Brennan," Zack said.

* * *

Daniel's lab had been carved out of the pack-ice a short distance away from the chair room, better for him to be closer to the main excavation site for easier and faster access but without being in the way.

Situated before a white board covered in numerous translations the excited archeologist was almost bouncing on the heels of his feet just trying to hold the information he held back a little longer so he could explain his find.

Weir and McKay gingerly took seats across from him, enthralled by the man's energy.

"We've gotten closer and closer to finding the location of the Lost City but it turns out we've been looking in the wrong place all along," he gestured at his work on the whiteboard for effect. "Now we thought we had a Stargate address, six symbols representing co-ordinates in space that determine the location of the planet the Ancients went to after they left Antarctica. Now recently we determined a seventh symbol..."

Snatching a dry erase marker from the nearest table he quickly added a seventh mark to a long stream of symbols that dominated the upper portion of the board.

"The point of origin," Elizabeth nodded at her understanding, "'_Earth'_."

"That's not it," Jackson shook his head at the wrong answer.

"Then you're address must be incorrect," McKay countered.

"Not incorrect…incomplete," the scientist grinned before adding an eighth image to the list. "We were looking local... we had to broaden the search."

"What are you saying, Dr. Jackson?" Weir couldn't believe what she was hearing for a second.

"It's an eight symbol address," Daniel grinned broadly. "What we're looking for may be further away than we ever imagined, but it's not out of reach."

"Atlantis," McKay whispered.

* * *

Even during the height of summer, Antarctica was still a frigid, never ending wasteland. With little in the way of life, she was an empty continent and the silence that prevailed over the wind was unnerving.

The beat of a passing helicopter broke that hush, the black hovering machine racing over the tundra.

Inside the glass cockpit the ground rushed under them so quickly it simply appeared to be one white sheet of nothing, though having completed this mission a number of times neither of the crafts occupants were concerned.

"Apache, Black hawk, Cobra, Osprey..."

Major John Sheppard's voice lazily listed off the aircrafts as he banked the helicopter over another snow embankment. Beside him General Jack O'Neill nodded in equal disinterest.

"That's a lot of training for the Antarctic," the older man noted, his black sunglasses reflecting in the sunlight overhead.

"It was the one continent I hadn't set foot on," Sheppard shrugged.

"It's one of my least favorite continents," Jack grumbled in return.

It had been almost half a decade since him and Carter had ended up stranded in this icy hell when the Stargate malfunctioned and dropped them at the previously unknown secondary Gate located beneath the surface. Several agonizing days of nearly freezing to death on what they thought was an ice world before their rescued had been more than enough time for O'Neill to enjoy.

"I kinda like it here," John admitted.

"You like it here?" the shock that filled the General's voice was enough to illicit a smile from Sheppard.

"Yes, sir," he nodded. "Were ten-minutes out from the base, sir."

"Faster the better," Jack added. "I hate this cold."

* * *

"Look we've been through this," Carson protested for the up-tenth unsuccessful time, "I'm not you man! I'm a doctor... a medical doctor."

"Keep moving," Rodney pressed him along and back into the chair room. "There is nothing to be afraid of."

"You don't understand," he continued to object, "I break things like this."

"This device has survived for millions of years intact. It will survive you. Now sit down," the scientist grinned before shoving Carson down into the device. "Close your eyes and concentrate for me."

He sighed, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to argue with Rodney any further. Accepting his fate he activated the machine.

The Ancient Control Chair was the most powerful weapon on the planet, any with a sufficient amount of training could access it and with that power, the multitude of drone weapons that were stored below the outpost.

Dependent on mental control, a user could interface with the key systems of the facility, sending thousands of the tiny self-guiding warheads into any aggressor threatening the planet. Already it had shown itself proficient in destruction by annihilating an entire Goa'uld invasion fleet led by the now deceased Anubis. Thirty _Ha'tak_-class warships along with their vastly superior mothership had been rendered inert debris with just the simple thought of the chair's last operator.

Even a fraction of that was enough to make Carson antsy to take the reins.

Closing his eyes he relaxed, allowing his mind to connect with the Ancient computer. Any reaction, he probed deep for a response.

None came.

"Again," Beckett sighed, "nothing."

"This time," Rodney stopped him before he had a chance to get away, "just try and imagine an image of where we are in the solar system."

"I think I feel something," Carson breathed after a moment, McKay eagerly leaned inward waiting what was coming next. "It could be lunch related."

"Shut up," the observe groaned, "and concentrate."

Still grinning a bit, Beckett closed his eyes again and dropped back into the inner mechanics of the machine.

For a second, nothing.

And then suddenly the lights flashed brighter and the entire chair reclined backwards as the system came to full power.

The movement shocked Carson, causing him to tighten and expect the worse to come. That one stray thought, the need to protect himself, was sensed by the outpost's systems and the response was immediate.

It had to defend its operator.

* * *

Shen Xiaoyi pulled her coat a little tighter around her shoulders, trying to will the cold out of her bones as she nursed a cup of steaming tea. She hated ice, she hated cold, she hated winter and her government had seen it in their infinite wisdom to send her to a place that knew nothing but that.

Across from her Svetlana Markov bustling about with nothing more than a sweater on, almost seeming to taunt her coworker. As the Russian IOA Representative at the Antarctic facility, the native Siberian was almost at home in the frigid environment, not like the Chinese Representative who was used to the balmy heat of south China.

"_Operations to all personnel_," the PA loudspeakers only helped to make Shen grimace a little more. "_General O'Neill is inbound. ETA five minutes_."

"Do they have to keep announcing that ever minute," she grumbled as she abandoned her warm couple and began to gather up her reports for the briefing. "He's just a military man making his rounds, what's the big deal."

Her comment managed to gain a laugh from Svetlana as she flopped down on the other side of the desk from Shen. Space at the Outpost was a premium, most of which that wasn't devoted to keeping the fatal cold and winds back went right to the research they were doing here. Administrations, while in charge for making most of the day to day leadership decisions on behalf of the IOA, was ironically not important enough to gain more than a small office on the surface levels.

Shen though office was too generous, supply closet was still generous.

"I served vith the man vhen he was still in command of SG-1," the Russian grinned, pulling her long raven hair into a pony tail as she spoke in her thick Siberian accent, "during the Russian Stargate Crisis. I found General O'Neill to be incredibly brash, especially annoying but he knovs the different between doing the right thing and doing the smart thing. He knovs the results and discoveries already made here vill jump our technological progress ahead at least a decade… but don't let his sense of humor get on your nerves."

It was true that Shen knew the General by reputation only and even she if she preferred to think his near hero like status among the American members of this expedition was only exaggerated, even the reports she had read when the People's Republic had first been made known of the Stargate program were incredibly impressive.

He was also a major force that had opposed the international involvement in this operation though thankfully he had been overruled on that matter. If he had gained sway, it could have been a serious diplomatic quagmire. The United States however had made serious concessions to allow a military presence in Antarctica, something the General had been begrudged but silently pleased about. One of those concessions was the Chinese and Russian delegations were allowed to send two of their Representatives to oversee the outpost's daily operations. It made have heaped on several tons of bureaucratic nonsense but it alleviated a lot more in the long run.

An American base, staffed by largely American scientists, protected by the American military, commanded by a member of China and Russia each… the paradox did not escape Shen and still brought her great humor.

"Ms. Xiaoyi," Shen was pulled from her musings as her liaison entered their office, "I have those status reports you requested."

"Thank you, Ianto," she accepted the folders he handed over and quickly skimmed the summary the young man had been kind enough to scribble out for her to save her some time. "So Doctor Weir is fighting the French initiative against Doctor Risi?"

"Vell the man von't be back from the Alpha Site for another veek," Svetlana noted. "Ve can at least postpone it for nov vithout LaPierre bloving a blood vessel. Did you make my point clear to Doctor Brennan?"

"She promised to behave herself," Ianto eagerly nodded, though his superiors were not too entirely convinced.

"Ve have over twenty military officers here," the Russian woman pondered out loud, "and the most violence we've had so far is our resident mortician kicking their asses."

"Americans," Shen scowled, "they always like getting us into trouble."

"Don't mention that around the General," her companion quipped, "the last time that American got into trouble, ve found ourselves in an interstellar var vith the Goa'uld."

* * *

"Alright Peter?" Toshiko smiled as she approached the fellow with her package in hand. "I recalibrated the sensor for you.

Peter managed to pull himself away from the drone he had step up before him, removing several of his sensory needles from the warhead as he put his work on pause to greet her.

"Thank you Tosh," Gordin smiled as he took the device from her and set it on his work station, "you're a life saver. Want to get some breakfast before the mission debriefing?"

"Sure thing," Sato grinned at her friend before turning her eyes onto the piece of technology the man had before him. "So how much of this thing do you actually understand?"

"Well we are still trying to make sense of the bloody thing," Peter grinned at the chance to describe his singular project that had swallowed most of his time here, "but if I'm right it using some kind of gravity distortion drive to achieve flight. One of these things could travel millions of kilometers without an ounce of fuel."

"Talk about getting your money's worth," the science geek in Toshiko made her eyes blaze at the implications such technology could mean for humanity.

"So I heard you got front row seats to another blow out between Rodney and Carson," Gordin changed the subject as he began to shut down his project.

"You know," Sato sneered, "I think those two just fight because they get some kind of thrill out of it-"

Her words caught in her throat as a humming rose in the air.

The outer protective covering of one of the bulbous squid-like shifted. A bright glow seemed to warm the machine, as if a tiny fire had started inside it circuitry.

For an instant Gordin almost thought he had broken the drone... until it launched.

"What the hell!" he gasped, a hair's breadth later the propulsion mechanism kicked in and the drone launched off his work-station, throttling itself forward as Peter and Toshiko were thrown backwards.

In the Chair Room Rodney nearly tripped over his own feet as he raced towards the monitoring computer.

"What did I do?!" Carson gasped, terrified and trying to disconnect himself from the chair.

Outside the safety of the control center his fear only pressed the drone on, sending the now flaming yellow warhead spiraling around the main chamber, striking several pieces of equipment before finally getting its bearings straight.

A split second after its internal navigation was corrected it righted itself and roared skyward... right up the elevator shaft to the surface.

It soared upward eagerly, quickly outpacing the rising elevator car as it rose.

Doctor Weir was almost throttled by the drone's exit, quickly trying to crane her neck up to see where it was headed... an instant before she realized who was most likely responsible for the warhead's activity.

"Get us back down there!" she shouted.

Above her, unknown to the sudden danger that had been unleashed, Shen and Svetlana were moving along the catwalks that sliced across the pack ice the base was constructed on, the crystal white dome above their heads glittered in the disturbingly clear Antarctic blue sky.

While the main dome of the base sat atop the ice, an amazing feat of engineering as it had only taken the United States Army Corp of Engineers barely two weeks to erect it after the Ancient Outpost's original discover, the actual facility was still hundreds of feet below the surface. The average elevator ride from the surface to the bottom took over fifteen minutes, any faster in this environment and the cable would snap from the speed and stress.

With the bulk of their operations below ground most of the operations under the shell were simple prefab buildings and a modest barracks to house personnel. The rest was just open ices save for the towering scaffolding that hung over the main shaft below to the real gem of the base.

"What is taking the thing so long?" Shen complained, pulling the zipper a little higher on her winter coat.

Her answer came as the above lower mechanism suddenly screamed, its worn and rusted edges fighting the abrupt halt to its ascent before after a brief moment the cable began to fall again.

"The car just reversed," Svetlana commented on the obvious, trying as she could to crane her neck over the railing to see what could be the problem.

It was a worthless attempt as the safety railing was three feet back from the edge of the main shaft, not a chance of being able to see to the bottom or even worse… fall over the edge before you went splat at the bottom.

"Oh fine," Shen sighed, "We'll just wait for Doctor Weir in the conference-"

Her sentence ended as a deafening squeal and a blinding light laced up through the ice shaft. Both women we blown backwards by the sudden eruption of air and pressure as a second later the overhead shattering of glass hinted the drone was now freed of the overhead dome that capped the elevator's shaft.

* * *

The dome rose up on the horizon, a round mountain that appeared to be a stark compliment to the jagged peaks that surrounded it.

Sheppard was just completing his final preparations for descent when the radio began to crackle violently.

"_All inbound craft we have a rogue drone that could seek a target on its own," _a man's voice urgently stated over the communication speakers and their headsets._ "Land immediately and shut down your engines. This is not a drill. I repeat we have_…"

Sheppard's eyes were already scanning the horizon and quickly sighted what could only be described as a burning yellow comet screaming up into the air.

He had never seen a drone before but basic training kicked in and he knew he had to act.

"It's too late," he shouted as he hit the throttle and pulled his joystick back to gain some altitude. "Hang on!"

The drone immediately caught sight of the sudden movement and quickly changed its vectors to intercept. With the thin air pressure and the speed it had already gained, it didn't have enough time to plot a first strike on the first round, but quickly came about as the tiny two-person aircraft began evasive maneuvers.

"Break right," O'Neill ordered but instead Sheppard snapped the vehicle to the left. "I said right!"

"I'll get to that sir," the pilot grumbled as he slid in close to the tundra, the drone slowly gaining behind him.

* * *

Weir tore into the Chair Control Room, a disheveled Toshiko and Peter managing to pursue her in. Before her Carson seemed to be struggling in the Ancient device as Rodney feverishly scanned the nearby computer terminal, terror and confusion rising on his face.

"I told you I was the wrong person," Beckett managed, sliding deeper into the device as he was expecting the worse to happen at any moment.

"What happened?!" was all that Elizabeth could manage.

"Get away from that!" Toshiko knocked a flabbergasted McKay back as she accessed the computer station. "Doctor Beckett seems to have accessed the drone systems. We still haven't tested the interface!"

"For obvious reasons!" Peter spat. "We still have no clue how the targeting system works!"

"It doesn't matter now just do something!" Rodney countered Gordin's outrage.

"Like what!?" the medical doctor shouted.

"Carson," Elizabeth spoke slowly, hoping to ease some of the man's fear that was most likely fueling the drone's rampage. "Concentrate on shutting that weapon down before it hurts someone."

Beckett managed a nod, squeezing his eyes closed as he willed his mind to reel the device back in.

* * *

"I can't see it," Sheppard shouted as white ground screamed under the chopper. "Radar's got nothing!"

"Pull up! Pull up!" O'Neill suddenly started screaming and John was quick to understand and react.

The drone was skimming the snow, using the ground as a cover from their radar. So close to the surface, the sensory device wouldn't be able to discern the warhead from a rock.

Sheppard managed to slam the controls backwards with enough force the gravity nearly flattened the General and him two inches deeper into their chairs. It came not a moment too late as the weapon sliced just barely a few inches from the cockpit window, rattling the thin plexi-glass.

"How about landing this thing now?" O'Neill tensely suggested.

"Now's good," the pilot nodded as he banked the craft hard, landing the skids hard against the ice as the snow surrounding kicked up into a hellish white tornado against the blades of the helicopter.

"Shut it down!" O'Neill shouted and John was quick to oblige him as he snapped dozens of switches and knobs as the overhead blades began to slow.

Seconds later the control console went dark and the gauges dropped to nothing as the entire machine whined to a stop. An instant the bellowing noise of the engine was gone and only the labored breathing of the two men filled the cabin.

"Sir," Sheppard managed after catching his breath, "that wasn't a-"

O'Neill's hand shot up to cut him off. "Wait for it," he simply said.

The screaming of the drone's engines was the first thing that caught John's ears, long before he saw the thing come screeching over the nearest snow bank. It rolled back and forth, almost as if it was trying to find them.

Without warning it's targeting system must have locked onto them as it impulsively rounded its course and started to make a beeline for the grounded aircraft.

"Get out!" Sheppard shouted even as he fought to undo his harness.

O'Neill wasn't far behind him as they both threw open their respective doors and threw themselves from the vehicle. They weren't going to get away in time, better to just bury themselves as deeply as possible in their respective snow mounds before the inevitable.

John was already counting the number of regrets and missed chances he had in life when unexpectedly a thud hit the ground in front of him. He managed to draw his eyes up to find a metallic squid like creation laying in the flurry before him… its slowly glowing surface starting to dwindle.

The drone had been deactivated just in time…

"That was different," Sheppard muttered.

"For me," O'Neill groaned from the snow beside him, "not so much."


	2. Chapter Two: Emerald Skies

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Two – Emerald Skies

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback:** Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers:** I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

"System confirms deactivation," Toshiko confirmed after a sigh of relief.

Not a second later a rushed Lieutenant Aiden Ford came clamoring into the room, pressing pass the throng of scientists that crowded the entrance archway. Sweat beading on his forehead as he took a quick breath before relaying his message.

"Major Sheppard is reporting…" he took a gasp, "the drone appears to have been incapacitated. General O'Neill's helicopter is unharmed and on its way again. Seven minutes out."

"Thank god," Weir breathed a sigh of relief.

"Holy crap," Beckett exclaimed, "let's not to that again?"

* * *

"Jack," Daniel smiled as his friend and comrade of several years disembarked from the recently arrived elevator car.

Behind him a bewildered Sheppard wandered out in his trail, utterly baffled and amazed at the massive cavern drilled out in every direction around them. His eyes searched every surrounding tunnel, crevice and side room breaking out from the camber, each filled with pipes, research equipment and scientists diligently at work.

"Daniel," Jack tried to hide his annoyance but it showed through like the cold in the air. "Warm welcome."

"Wasn't me," his subordinate shrugged. "How did you manage to er...?"

"Keep my ass from being blown out of the sky?" Jack finished Daniel's implied sentence. "The exceptional flying of Major John Sheppard would have something to do with that. He likes it here."

"Exceptional?" Daniel could never tell even after all these years when Jack was paying a compliment or being sarcastic before turning towards the man in question. "You like it here?"

Sheppard only managed a nod before turning his attention towards some of the alien equipment laid out over the nearby work stations. His inquisitive nature however was becoming disconcerting to several of the surrounding personnel who were shooting him displeased looks.

"Major, follow," O'Neill ordered and the officer was quick to follow orders as he fell into step behind the pair. "Daniel, let's say we skip to the part where you start talking real fast."

"Fine," the good doctor sneered as he gestured to his lab. "Weir's in here."

They were almost home free but as O'Neill rounded the nearest pile of computer equipment his interest in this facility dropped to an all time low.

"General O'Neill," the woman smiled as she turned from her companion that had taken position outside the entranceway, "Shen Xiaoyi, Chinese Representative for the International Oversight Advisory. I just wanted to apologize for the accident that occurred earlier-"

"Is she for real?" Jack cut her off with a glance towards Daniel before the bureaucrat could finish her speech.

"I varned you," Svetlana smirked before approaching the offender. "General O'Neill, it's good to see you vithout a vorld threatening disaster on the horizon."

"Well it is the weekend, wait 'til Monday," the General managed a well made smile before glancing backwards and sighting his comrade paying too much attention to the alien equipment again. "Don't touch anything until we're back!"

"Yes, sir," Sheppard nodded, though the moment they were out of sight he was back to examining the closest piece of hardware.

O'Neill knew his order was going to be ignored and he knew it was a waste to press the Major any further after he had just recently saved Jack's proverbial ass. With a sigh he moved on.

Daniel's lab was nothing but an extension off the central cavern that surrounded the outpost, a whiteboard, a laptop and a stainless steel work table covered in more paper then even the Amazon Rainforest could provide.

Like a professor before his class, Daniel was brimming with so much excitement his glasses were starting to fog up as the two IOA Representatives, civilians and one general. Beside him Toshiko watched with mild amusement as she brought up the scientist's translations onto the nearby projection screen.

"I've figured the Ancients packed up their entire city," the archeologist pronounced, "somewhere between five and ten million years ago.

"In their flying city," Jack could barely hide the smirk spreading across his face.

"What?" the scientist indignation rose as his posture began to straighten at the joking.

"_Flying_ city," O'Neill leered at his friend.

"Seems a bit hard to believe," Svetlana grinned beside him.

"Well keeping in mind this is the race who built the Stargates," Jackson countered. "They did everything big."

"So why'd they leave?" Doctor Weir decided to get them back on track.

"Ah…Who knows?" Daniel shrugged. "We know the Ancients who stayed on Earth were suffering from a plague. Maybe some of them wanted to start over, seek out new life in a new galaxy."

"The point is you know where they went," Shen accepted before turning back to the man leading the discussion. "Don't you?"

"Based on Doctor Jackson's translations," the young Asian scientist jumped at the chance to be involved in the talks, "entered into our navigation database it appears they head for Pegasus."

"And you are?" O'Neill asked as his gazed turned towards the woman could be half his age.

"Doctor Sato is one of the leading computer and technical experts who the IOA has brought to the Stargate Program," Representative Xiaoyi jumped at the chance to add some bragging rights to her side of the conversation. "She was instrumental in the redesign of the dialing computer at the SGC six-months ago."

"You must be so proud," Jack didn't even tried to hide his sarcasm. "So you were saying something about a horse?"

"Yes… no….," Jackson stammered to get back on course, "it's… it's the name of a dwarf galaxy in the local group."

"After all that time is the any hope of actually meeting them?" Rodney's excitement now began to rise to match Daniel's.

"Who knows," Daniel was on the edge of his seat, leaning across the table, "but isn't that reason enough to go?"

"I've been choosing members for this Expedition for months, Doctor," Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the prospect before turning to gaze at the General beside her. "I'm not the one who needs convincing."

"Oh, I'm convinced," Jack gave a nod, "have fun."

"It's a little more complicated than that..." Jackson trailed off as O'Neill sent him a dark gaze.

"We need the zed PM to power the Gate," Doctor McKay interjected, though the moment the General turned his steely eyes on the scientist he backed down real quickly.

"ZPM," Daniel expounded on. "He's Canadian."

"I'm sorry," O'Neill apologized… though to the doctors mispronunciation or nationality was open to question.

"The zero point module, General," McKay's temper began to ebb but he managed to keep it under wraps. "The ancient power source you recovered from Proclarush and is now powering the outpost's defenses. I've since determined that it generates its power from vacuum energy derived from a self contained region of subspace time."

"That was a waste of a perfectly good explanation," Jack nodded. "The answer's no."

* * *

The walls were carved like artwork and no matter which may he tilted his head, it always created a new and fascinating pattern to besot his eyes.

Everything was cool blue, complimenting the white ice walls that carved the main cavern and even if he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, every inch of the structure seemed to glow brightly as he reached out to graze his fingers over the geometric lattice that surrounded the construct.

"The second I shut my eyes," a thick Scottish voice caught Sheppard's ear and he slowly came around the lattice to find the speaker. "I could see you see, I felt power I've never had before, I had it dancing across the sky... it was magical it really was. They're lucky, I don't know where it came from I just tried to concentrate and the drone shut itself down."

He laughed, his voice loud and jovial as the three scientists in front of him will enraptured by his tale.

Sheppard on the other hand felt the heat rising in his gullet.

"So you were the one!" the Scotsman jumped and spiraled about as Sheppard almost stormed in.

The scientists quickly scattered off to their various activities as Doctor Beckett suddenly found himself using the Ancient Chair Weapon to separate himself from Major Sheppard.

"Me?" he managed as innocently as possible.

"You were the one," John growled dangerously, "who fired that thing at me."

"Look we're doing research," Carson tried to appeal to the soldier but he knew he was losing ground and fast. "Working with technology that's light-years beyond us and we make mistakes. I'm incredibly, incredibly sorry."

The rage ebbed as the good doctor pulled himself as far back as possible, pleading profusely as he threw his hand up for protection.

"Well," John sighed but still kept his voice as hostile as possible, "next time just be a little more careful, okay… What the heck was that thing anyway?"

"You mean the drone?" Beckett surmised as Sheppard nodded. "The weapon the Ancients built to defend this outpost."

"The who?" John managed, his head still as confused from the incident with the drone, the explanation of such only made it worse.

Beckett managed an incredulous look at the Major. "You do have security clearance to be here?"

"Yeah, yeah," John waved him off as he slowly began to stalk the room, examining the various piece of technology, both human and alien, "General O'Neill just gave it to me."

"Then you don't even know about the Stargate," Beckett gasped at the implication.

"The what?" Sheppard managed as Carson shot him a worried look.

* * *

Daniel huffed in frustration, trying to reign his temper back in as he resisted the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

"Jack," the scientist was almost flabbergasted that his superior was not agreeing with his proposal, "you know to gate to another galaxy requires an enormous amount of power."

"Yes, I do," O'Neill wasn't convinced as he reiterated his point. "Find another way."

"I estimate," Toshiko chimed in, a thing grin playing at her lips as she stared back at the General, "it would take over a hundred Mark I Naquadah generators, functioning at barely controlled overload to achieve a connection for only eleven seconds… before they exploded of course."

"I like her," he grinned back, "you and Carter would have a great time making my ear's bleed."

"There's no other way, Jack," Daniel pressed, unceasing and unwilling to give up.

"The IOA supports this initiative," Svetlana rang in as well, her eyes darting over as Jack shot her a look. "But as the ZPM is under sole possession of the United States and Stargate Command, you have final say, General."

Finally O'Neill left out a heaving sigh and said, "You think there are more of these Zed things in Atlantis?"

"Yes," Jackson was quick to agree the moment he had achieved the high ground, "and who knows what else we could find. This isn't just some other civilization we're talking about. These are the gate builders."

"The potential wealth of knowledge and technology," Elizabeth could barely hide her excitement. "It outweighs anything we've come across since we stepped through the Stargate."

"Well with the amount of power you'll need to make this trek," O'Neill examined. "Odds are it will be one way."

"Yes," Elizabeth would be the first to admit the problem, "we know but the benefit to humanity is far greater than the risk. It is a risk that every one of my Expedition members is willing to take."

* * *

Carson stalked around the edge Ancient Chair, still keeping a close eye on Major Sheppard as the man examined the device with child like interest.

"They think the gene was used as a sort of genetic key if you will," Beckett explained, continually keeping his distance from the soldier. "So that only their kind could operate certain dangerous and powerful technologies."

"So some people have the same genes as these Ancients," Sheppard commented as he ran his fingers across the arms of the invention.

"Specific gene is very rare," the Doctor nodded, "but on the whole they look very much like we do. In fact they were first through the second evolution of this form. The Ancients having explored this Galaxy for millions of years before... Major, please don't!"

Sheppard stopped in mid-motion as he lowered himself into device to look up at the civilian, a leer in his eyes.

"Come on," he scoffed, "what are the odds of me having the same genes as these guys?"

His backside hit the chair's stiff surface and the response was immediate. Lights flashed and the chair reclined, thrusting Sheppard backwards as he seemed to be locked into place. Around him the dais around the chair began to glow, cool white, blue and green colors spiraled out and up the walls. Below both his hands, the arms of the chair grew white, pulsing and growing warm to the touch.

But what was most surprising was the presence he felt in his head, like a second train of thought that was totally alien to anything he was accustomed too was now spiraling through his mind. At first it was cold, almost forcing a shiver across his skin before suddenly he sensed an almost enjoyable serenity starting to rise in him.

That however meant little as the shock of what had just transpired caused him to freeze up.

Carson appeared above him, staring down with an equal express of shock on his features.  
After a pause he finally managed a response.

"Quite slim actually," Beckett managed after a beat. "Don't move. Dr. Weir!!"

He rushed off, leaving Sheppard alone still inside the device.

John however barely noticed as he tried to fathom the new presence dwindling inside his psyche. He was so interested in the unseen he almost didn't notice the shift in his vision until the first icon floated across his eyes.

It didn't register at first but sudden dozens of choppy symbols began to swell and rise from all corners of the room. They moved and rolled, some changing, others slowly growing bright as they began to warm up after generations of disuse.

What John soon realized after a moment he was looking at some kind of display, readouts began to play over his field of vision and even though he couldn't read them, he still understood what they were trying to convey.

Further investigation however was cut off as a triad of people began to pour into the room. Beckett was first through the archway, followed in succession by General O'Neill and several other nameless people Sheppard did know.

"Who is this?" Weir was the first to fire off a question.

The look of annoyance on O'Neill's face was more of a concern to the young Major.

"I said," Jack reiterated, "Don't touch anything."

"I... I...," Sheppard stammered before his defense finally came to him, "I just sat down!"

"Major," John's eyes swirled over to a pudgy civilian type pushing his way to the front of the group, "think about where we are in the solar system."

Sheppard didn't really register how he was going to do such a thing but instantly at the man's inquiry the image of Earth appeared in his mind.

A reaction was instant, above him the air suddenly filled with blue mist as an image of the solar system began to take form overhead. Planets, moons, asteroids, all in minute detail started to orbit around a barely baseball sized star that suddenly burst to life directly over the Major's head.

Mars, Venus, even mighty Jupiter coasted above them as tiny comets shot and rolled through the stellar billiard collection.

Even if the shock was high in the room as everyone looked up, they all did hear Sheppard's comment.

"Did I do that?"

* * *

The food was not the finest in the world, the corn looked like it was as old as the Ancient Outpost and what the cooks called roast beef was even older… it wasn't even solid.

Ianto picked at his meal, trying to garner up something close to an appetite but failing. It was already cold by the time he had sat down at the table in the mess hall, the peas managing a meager column of steam that was quickly dwindling. He would have taken his meal in his quarters like he usually did but given today's events, he had barely any energy left to manage the trek across the base.

His mind began to wander as he watched the people around him, seeing officers, scientists, even a few civilian contractors intermingling as he sat alone at his table in the distant rear of the room.

He could only blame himself for not having any particular person to sit with; he may have arrived with the first wave of personnel he had rarely interacted with his comrades or subordinates.

However Ianto was surprised when someone deposited themselves into the seat across from him.

"Good day, Ianto Jones," Zack greeted as he dropped onto the seat across from him.

"Evening Doctor Addy," Ianto nodded back, trying with all his might to keep his eyes from gluing themselves to his tray.

"I have been told," the younger man launched off in his usual hyper-intellectual speak, "that those wishing to promote a more personal social relationship with an individual tend to use first names to ease tension."

His counterpart couldn't help but smile at Zack's attempt at human socialization.

"Yes it is," Ianto managed a half-hearted smirk, "Zack."

The liaisons eyes shot back to the tray, just barely missing the flush of the younger doctor's checks at the use of his name.

"So next week," Zach began to propose, "The recreation schedule states there is a movie-"

"Did you hear the news?" Peter Gordin announced as he suddenly plummeted into next to Zack, cutting off any conversation as he drop his metal tray with a clang. "IOA and Stargate Command gave the okay for Pegasus!"

"You're serious," Ianto's attention was instantly peaked. "Last time they said we had found the Lost City it turned out they were just installing a new thermal heater."

"No," Peter waved off, "Toshiko was there. Here I'll show you… Toshiko!"

He waved to a young woman just departing from the lunch line, a head of black hair and thin glasses perched on a smooth nose turned and headed in their directions.

"I was just telling, Zack and Ianto about the go ahead," the man explained as his friend delivered her meal onto the table and sat down. "You were there, you tell them."

"Took some convincing," Doctor Sato smiled, "but General O'Neill gave the green light."

"This is definitively good news," Zack nodded. "Do we have a set departure window?"

"That quick to leave," Peter asked as he stuffed some roast beef into his mouth… and then grimacing at the taste.

"The Expedition will need a dedicated forensic anthropology team," Addy explained, "but emotionally speaking the longer we remain on Earth, the harder it will be for some members to detach themselves from their love ones."

"You're leaving family behind?" Ianto posed, finding it hard to believe that a person like Zack, who talks in a near-robotic like voice, to have anything close to an emotional connection to anything.

"Family is brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews," Doctor Addy shrugged, "Forty people who love you and are happy to see you no matter what."

"What about you Toshiko?" Peter raised his eyes to the woman alongside him.

"Both my parents are dead and my sisters are off living their own lives," the scientist clarified before a smirk began to spread over her face. "Besides Doctor Zelenka is an excellent engineering specialist but I am one of the two people in the world who can read Ancient crystal binary. I couldn't live with myself if I abandoned the poor man. But we think the trip is one way… possibly never to return."

"I wonder," Zack wondered out loud, "how many people are actually going to agree to be dematerialized to another galaxy to never return? The statistics would nevertheless make an excellent study in human isolation."

"What about you, Ianto," Toshiko beamed over the rims of her glasses to the man that had until now been entirely silent, "got anyone you'll miss?"

"No… no one in particular," he answered, trying not to notice the pang such a declaration caused in his heart. "I'm sorry… I really have to go…"

* * *

Jack approached the elevator car, the snow crunching under his feet as tried to get into the transport even faster. Already his bones were aching from being in this freezing weather and now that his work was finished here he wanted out as quickly as possible.

Behind him Doctor Weir tried to keep pace, dodging personnel as she valiantly tried to argue with him.

"We could be on our way to discovering an entirely new ancient civilization at best case scenario," Elizabeth detailed as she nearly tripped over her own feet trying to keep up with him. "We meet actual Ancients who are willing to help us, but if we don't. General, we need him."

They arrived at the bottom of the elevator shaft, though the car was still descending towards the pair. Jack bounced on his heels, trying to will the transport to reach the bottom sooner.

"Yes, yes fine Doc," O'Neill tried to wave her off and failed. "You can have Daniel. Kid would wet his pants if I didn't let him go. Besides the IOA, Joint Chiefs of Staff _and_ President Hayes told me he want him on this ride."

"I'm talking about Major Sheppard," Weir clarified.

"Oh right," Jack caught on. "Don't you have a dozen or so people already who can use the ancient technology?"

"Yeah," she waggled her head. "With concentration and training they could make it work, but John Sheppard, he does it naturally."

"You know," he warned. "I checked into his record."

"I know about the whole supposed black mark in Afghanistan," Elizabeth dismissed that fact quickly. "He was trying to save the lives of three servicemen."

"Disobeying a direct order in the process," Jack pointed out.

"I have read your own file, General," O'Neill immediately shot her a look as she stood her ground. "You have your fair share of disciplinary marks in your records. Remember I was in charge of the SGC for a while, I read your records. Please, O'Neill."

The elevator car arrived and Jack waited only until the last of the passengers had disembarked before stepping abroad.

"Right...okay, it's your expedition," he conceded. "You want him, you ask him."

"That's the thing..." Elizabeth finished. "I have…"

* * *

She threw the files into the backpack with overwhelming zealous joy, not caring what critically top secret report landed where.

Meticulousness and diligence were not on her mind right now, instead it was the growing urge to be ride of this place that was driving her sloppy nature. She was simply trying to make the departure from this icy continent a little faster.

"Ianto," the young aide quickly sprung up from his desk at her beck and call, "we'll be on the first flight out tonight so I need you to start transferring my files to Headquarters. Talk to Doctor Sato, she can give you a hand."

"Yes, Ms. Shen," he nodded as he disappeared out the door to complete her order.

"Getting ready to abandon this frozen hellhole so soon?" Svetlana grinned over her coffee cup, enjoying the recent brew Ianto had poured her.

Celebrations for the Expeditions launch were happening all over the base but as champagne or any other form of alcohol were illegal here, a nice steaming mug of coffee would have to do.

"What," Shen scoffed, "you actually intend to stay for the rest of summer? I've heard temperatures at the South Pole are nice and cozy so you won't notice as you freeze in mid-stride."

"Ah, I'll miss the dry Chinese vit of yours," Svetlana sighed as she took another sip from her mug. "I intend to be back in Moscov by the end of the veek. I'm sure you'll miss me."

"I highly doubt that," her companion sneered. "While working with you has been an experience in itself, the IOA has informed me, I will take be taking the prestigious position as diplomatic specialist on the Atlantis Expedition."

Markov's cup hit the floor as her face played a dozen different emotions at once.

"That's impossible!" she shouted. "Doctor Veir chose me for that posting. She said I came highly recommended by the General Chekov and I have had past dealings vith the SGC. General O'Neill chose me as the Russian liaison to the program before the IOA vas even formed."

"Unlikely," Xiaoyi suddenly froze in the act of tossing another folder into her rucksack… before she rounded on Svetlana. "My government overturned plans to out vote the U.S. military control of the Stargate in exchange for my place on this mission. I doubt they would give that up to for a Red over me."

"Vell, me being a Red," Svetlana mocked her, "von't keep me from knocking you on your-"

"Not what I'd expect from my two subordinates" both women snapped their heads about, at the dark skinned woman standing in the doorway.

"And you might be?" Shen tried to keep the hostile tone out of her voice but it didn't work.

"Allison Blake," the woman flashed a tight but professional smile as she entered the office, boots clicking on the hard metal floor. "Department of Defense and former military liaison to the Eureka program."

Both women knew they were in the presence of authority and quickly calmed up.

Only the most secret and advanced projects were undertaken at Eureka, testing of the experimental hyperdrive for the Prometheus, research of the Naquadah generators and the reverse engineering of a Goa'uld Al'kesh were stowed away at the recluse genius community. The IOA had tried to get a hand into that pot and had had it firmly slammed shut on their fingers.

Eureka was the most technological important centers after Stargate Command, they already had sway in one secret government agency, two was not something the Americans would willing allow.

"Vhat brings you all the vay to Antarctica, ma'am?" Ms. Markov questioned, feeling the source of uncomfortable slowly regarding her with cold eyes.

"The IOA tap me to lead the diplomatic portion of the Atlantis Expedition," she explained, slowly dropping down onto the corner of Shen's desk. "From what I've been told, you will be my direct subordinates and seconds in command."

"We were told one of us be leading the diplomatic contingent," Shen had held her song just long enough and now was starting to bristle.

"I believe lack of a united front," Allison offered a smiled and a pause before continuing, "was used when the review of your tenure here was brought up. Since neither of you can get along without going at each other's throats, President Hayes personally recommended me as civilian liaison and diplomatic department head for the Atlantis Expedition. I had flown in to begin immediate preparations, and to ascertain the condition of my co-XO's. I hope I didn't interrupt."

"No..." Markov grinned as Shen's face filled with several shades of red. "Not at all…"

* * *

Inside the cramped cockpit of the chopper, O'Neill had to fight the urge to pause as the memories of this morning almost overpowered him. Years of military training were quick to squash any halt in his actions as he pulled his seatbelts on.

"McMurdo says winds are clear," Sheppard announced beside him.

After his incident down below with the Ancient technology, he had quickly fled back to the safety of his aircraft. O'Neill doubted after even a 'minimal' display of power the Ancient's could wield, few people of even strong constitutions could keep their wits intact.

So many years in the SGC could easily tell Major Sheppard's reaction was a classic case of 'gate-shock'. Daniel had coined the phrase way back when the Stargate was just another classified program hidden deep under layers of government secrecy, long before its days of international and interstellar recognition. Having your entire world being reduced to just another speck in the sky tends to do that.

But he knew it was better to confront such a revelation head on instead of ignoring it.

"This isn't a long trip," the General blurted after a pause, "so I'll be a succinct as possible."

"Well that's pretty succinct," Sheppard mumbled.

"Thank you," O'Neill grinned.

"I told Dr. Weir…" the man paused, uncertainty rising in his eyes even if they were hidden behind his flight goggles, "that I'd… well... I'd think about it."

Jack was not convinced, though his annoyance was increasing. "And?"

"All due respect sir," John grumbled as he began the pre-flight startup, "we were just attacked by an alien missile. Then I found out I have some mutant gene. Then there's this Stargate thing and an expedition to other galaxies."

"You know, this isn't about you Sheppard," O'Neill protested, trying to appeal to the soldier's sense of honor. "It's a lot bigger than that."

"Right now," he fought, "at this very second, whether I decide to go on this mission or not seems to be about me."

"Let me ask you something," Jack proposed. "Why did you become a pilot?"

"I think," the pilot considered his options for a second before responding; "people who don't want to fly are crazy."

"And I think people who don't want to go through the Stargate are equally as whacked," General O'Neill countered. "Now if you can't give me a yes by the time we reach McMurdo, I don't even want you…"


	3. Chapter Three: Bipolar Process

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Three – Bipolar Process

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback:** Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers:** I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

Her lips pressed into his, hips gyrating against pelvis and sweat intermingling with the hot breath. Roving hands tugged at his shirt, the sudden attention almost caused him to lose grasp on his helmet before he managed to get it onto the nearby countertop.

His top was over his head before he had a chance to realize what was happening but it was only gave him pause before those supple and warm lips were against his again.

"Nice place," she breathless notice before diving back in.

The passion, the pleasure, the force of all the sexual energy threw him backwards... literally as he was knocked back into the couch as those hands now moved down towards his belt line.

In the haste to steady himself, his fingers grasping for some kind of leverage as his companion continued to press into him hard, he accidently hit the remote.

His date pulled the clip from her hair, strands of peach colored locks falling over her face as she seductively tilted her head to the side to entice him further.

However while lust and passion should have been leading his instincts to scoop her up and throw her into the bedroom with animalistic vigor, his eyes instead locked with the images that blinked over the television screen across the living room.

Even as lips crashed into one another, bodies pressed together and hands groping for flesh, his sight locked onto the televised images.

"I knew you were going to be my best table," his date whispered, moaning against him, practically jumping into his lap.

His response never came as his head tilted for a better view of the television, though she barely noticed as their tongues continued their tug of war.

"…Joe," the woman reporter inquired as scenes of police cars and broken glass played on the screen, "do the police have any leads at this time?"

"We're at a loss," the man who could probably be Joe responded. "We really don't know what else to do."

It was a minor tick, almost like every time Joe spoke something stung him in his hand. If you weren't paying attention it was gone before you noticed but the man picked up on it, just out of the corner of his eye and though his date's lips continued to run across his, he already was formulating the results in his head.

"It's been a tough few weeks," Joe continued on. "We've basically run out of ideas. Hopefully, the police will be able to crack this one for us."

"Closing the books on the Visions break-ins," the unseen reporter responded, "could be just the olive branch needed to set things in the right direction…"

His fingers were already wrapping around the cordless phone before his companion knew what was going on.

"What are you doing?" she asked, perplexed as he pulled away from her for a moment.

"I'm calling the police," he countered.

"Any particular reason?" she queried, even as she slowly… removed what little clothing she had left on. "You didn't tell me you were a cop."

"No, no, no," he shook his head as he pressed the keypad on the small white device. "Definitely not a cop. Does that disappoint you?"

"I just thought you may have…" she said, yearning echoing in her body as she stepped out of what little she had left on, "handcuffs."

"Oh, I have handcuffs," he winked at her but the click on the other end torn his attention away. "…Hello?"

"Santa Barbara Police Department," a man answered on the other line.

"Uh, it's the store manager," he quickly stated as fingers now began to pull at his belt. "He did it."

"Pardon me?" he kicked himself for being so quick, the officer on the other end had no idea what he was talking about.

"Uh, the stereo robberies?" he expanded his explanation, even as a tongue began to run along his neck almost causing him to shiver so violently he'd drop the phone. "At The Visions chain store. He's on Channel 8 News, right now. Uh, his hands. Nervous tick. Dead giveaway. And he won't look the reporter in the eyes."

"And your name is?" the officer asked.

"My name?" he was quickly losing the battle, the last bit of fabric obscuring his body was now being tossed onto the floor. "My name is Shawn Spencer."

"And is there anything else to add?" the policeman seemed a bit annoyed but continued to do his duty.

"Nope," but then Shawn's eyes skipped back to the television and the news report, "Actually, the tags on the News van are expired, but that's completely unrelated."

"Thank you, sir," the officer accepted, though the phone had already fallen on the floor as two bodies crashed into one another.

* * *

"I'm late," she cursed herself as she dodged between the mid-morning commuters, "so very late! Excuse me!"

"This is the final boarding call for flight 416 with service from Dallas to Fort Worth" the PA system of Washington Dulles International Airport announced as she dashed across the terminal floor. "We say again, final boarding call for flight 416 with service from Dallas to Fort Worth."

First she had been caught in rush hour traffic, then finding parking had been an experience in impossibility and now at twenty-minutes late she had found the arrivals board to be on the fritz.

Her only hope was trying to find someone who worked in this god forsaken place.

"Excuse me… ahh…" she asked, trying to get the attention of a flight attendant behind one of the nearest flight counters, "you have a computer glitch at the arrivals board."

He didn't even bother to look up, continuing to type away on his computer with obnoxious intensity

"Hello? Sir? Excuse me? Yoo hoo?" he flashed her a 'give me a minute' hand signal and quickly returned back to banging away on his computer. She sighed to herself "Great."

Time was running out, she was already late and every second that was wasted just helped to worsen the situation.

She mentally weighed her options and though the urge to grab the man by his blue tie and rip the '_Hi, how can I help you_?' pin from his vest, another idea sparked in the dark recesses of her mind.

Grabbing the corners of her jacket she quickly tore the buttons open, revealing the hot violet bustier underneath. She secretly congratulated herself for going with the lacey top, far less revealing as she now stood here in nothing but her undergarments.

But no she definitely had her attention.

"Yeah. Hi!" she grinned. "The flight from South America?"

"Tell me you tried '_excuse me_' first, Angela?" a voice asked behind her and the near naked woman almost shouted in glee.

"Sweetie!" Angela Montenegro shouted as she spun around from the still slack jawed flight attendant and gave her best friend a hug. "Yes I did. Welcome home. Oooh. Are you exhausted? Was Antarctica awful? Was it horribly cold?"

"And yet I was never reduced to flashing my boobs for information," Temperance responded, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as Angela continued her rapid fire of questions.

"Flash 'em for any fun reasons?" the other woman winked. "I bet with the cold air that would have been a great show."

"I was literally neck deep in frozen corpses," Brennan smiled as then continued on into the airport. "Not romantic."

"Y'know diving head first in a pit of cadavers," Angela lectured as they moved off into to main atrium of the terminal, "is no way to handle a messy breakup."

"Angela," Brennan shot back, "nothing Pete and I ever did was messy."

Her friend was about to drop another round of laughter and lewd jokes when suddenly Temperance dropped her bag and spun around. Angela was so caught by the motion she made it another two steps before she rounded about to find Brennan in a man's face.

"Sir, why are you following us?" Temperance barked, even she was thin and wore her hair in a pony tail, her voice held power.

The man in question only waited the blink of an eye… before he made a grab for Brennan.

She twisted back, causing him to lose his grip before she used the unbalanced stance he had taken to land a punch in his exposed stomach.

The impact caused him to double over, giving her an perfect opportunity to land the heel of her shoe into his chest, knocking him finally to the floor in defeat.

"Attack! Security! Hello?" Angela shouted even as Brennan had disabled their assaulter. "Who runs this airport?"

The bounding of heavy boot and out of the crowd three security officers appeared, guns drawn, all eyes on the atrium floor turning to start at the commotion.

"We need you to step back!" One of the uniformed men shouted. "NOW!

"He attacked me!" Brennan retorted, even as she caught the arm of her attacker and violently pressed in as far back as possible so the pain kept her assailant under control a little longer.

"I'm Homeland Security!" he screamed over the pain racing through his body as the doctor continued to twist the bicep and Humerus to a point where he'd swear they'd snap at any moment.

"Ohh, not again…" Angela sighed. "an little misunderstanding here."

Brennan's hands shot up into the air as she realized her folly.

"You can put away your guns," she stated.

"What is she in charge now?" the Homeland Security agent shouted as he hauled himself up from the ground, an untimely look of outrage and disgust on his face. "No! I'll tell you when you can lower your weapons."

His eyes bore into Temperance and though he felt a woman looking down a long list of violations would be far more afraid, she just stared right back.

"Hand over your bag," he growled, pointing to her discarded carryon that lay on the floor barely an arm's reach away.

"Oh?" she actually shrugged at his ordered like it meant nothing at all. "Is that what this is about?"

Nonchalant Temperance reached down, snatched the tan leather bag from the ground and tossed it to him.

He caught it with a dark glare at her before he pulled the zipper back and stared at its darken contents.

A battered, dirty skull stared right back at him… moments before he stifled a yelp and dropped the cranium to the ground.

A smile slowly spread over Brennan's face as she reached down and gathered up her 'luggage'.

"Boo…"

* * *

Shawn leaned over the counter, talking notice of the uniformed female officer writing on the other side. A leer blazed into his eyes as he noted her open cleavage and lack of a wedding band.

"Hello, officer," he almost drooled onto the hard oak surface but managed to keep his tongue under control.

She was too busy scrawling away on her documents literally her side of the counter to even give him a second glance.

"Okay hi!" he tried again, this time taking his eyes off her ferocious chest and staring at her down turned head. "I'm Shawn Spencer."

That got a response, a poignant finger jab at the bench behind him… and the burly biker handcuffed to the piece of furniture.

"Oh… Oh. No, no," he tried to protest. "That's not for me. Uh, I'm here for a commendation. I called in a-"

The finger again took another shot at the bench.

"Here's the thing," he sighed, growing tired of this entire exchange, "these are new pants."

A pair of eyes glowered at him and Shawn took quick note of the sidearm laying beside her.

"Clearly, you feel very strongly about this," Shawn bounced on heels of his sneakers. "But I think-"

The ring of the phone and the officer picking up the receiver suggested this conversation had come to an end… even if it never truly began.

He rounded and looked at the bench.

The biker was about six foot six, shaved head, scar running along the edge of his jaw, wearing the classic leather vest and with a tattoo across his forehead that said '_bloodthirsty_'. He quickly noted the handcuffs, strained as the captive tugged on the metal to test its constriction.

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bench.

With a huff, he slide onto the seat beside the convict, the man's attention easily snapped up to stare at him with intense hatred.

"Get out of here," Shawn grinned as he pointed to the man's facial art. "You know, I have the same tattoo. They spelt '_bloodthirsty_' wrong on mine. Can you believe it?"

The biker lunged, his fist taking a swing towards Shawn's face. Muscles flexed, veins popped and lips pulled back into a snarl.

Instead of launching backwards in terror or coward, Shawn only smiled widely, flashing a sparkling smile. If it weren't for the handcuffs Shawn wouldn't have had those three inches of space between his nose and the biker's fist.

His eyes easily picked up on the red flecks on the man's fingers and though he easily dispelled them as blood, his inner senses were already analyzing what he saw.

They weren't glass, the man's hands would be scratched up from the fine crystal. It wasn't paint, which would stain, the material was flaking off. Possibly a rash, no the skin wasn't inflamed.

It was red plastic.

Now where could a biker, with an obvious temperament, having just been arrested and not booked yet, get red plastic on himself?

"What did you do?" Shawn asked. "Bust up your ex-wife's car?"

To say the biker was shocked was an understatement before he responded in a deep baritone voice marred by years of smoking. "Her new boyfriend's."

"That'll teach her," the younger man gave a hardy laugh.

"They got no witnesses," his newly acquired friend whispered in a gruff, throaty tone.

"Sweet," Shawn nodded before his eyes scooped out that the biker's fists weren't the only parts of him covered in the fine red bits. "Might want to brush the shards of taillight off your sleeve…"

"Gee," he nodded, quickly working off the offending material from his sleeve, "thanks guy."

"Sure," Shawn bounced in his seat, though his eyes were quick to track the fall of the red flecks as they fell through the air and right into the cuff of the man's cut off jeans.

He was just about to make a further comment when a towering officer in a black uniform appeared before the two men.

"Right this way, Mr. Spencer," the man gestured for Shawn to follow, to which Shawn quickly jumped up from his stimulating conversation before heading off.

Through the sea of desks, officers working triple shifts, phones ringing off the hook and into a room in the back of the building, Shawn found himself dropping down into a chair across from a junior detective. He was immediately fixed with a bored look of overworked eyes.

"So…" Shawn started after a long pause. "When do I get my money?"

"Money?" the eyebrow of the detective arched at Shawn's proposition.

"Yeah, the reward?" he snickered. "You guys arrested the store manager, right?"

* * *

The woman had been on her way home, barely a bloke from her apartment with some groceries from the all-night gas station down the corner, when they got her. Seven hours and one emergency surgery later she was in the intensive care unit with a black and blue face, a ventilator the only hint to where her mouth was on her swollen skin.

The tweezers picked around the edge of her finger nails, remove the dirt, grim and bits of tiny carnage away and into the nearby evidence envelop.

She tried to keep her eyes from turning up to the victim's face, the tiny eyes fighting to stare out from under the bruised and red skin.

The moment she did make eye contact, she immediately looked away as overwhelming dread rose up in her.

Slipping the evidence container back into her work kit, she gave a brief but detached nod to the patient and then slide out from the room. The hospital door rolled close behind her and she threw herself back against the barrier, sighing in relief at the freedom from those pleading eyes.

"How is she?" her supervisor asked, almost making the other woman jump out of her skin. "Sara, are you alright?"

Sara Sidle tried to manage a smile but some the concern look in Catherine Willow's eyes, she had failed to convince her boss.

"I'm going to take the SAE kit to Greg," Sara managed grind out the words, keeping the shaking of her hands under control.

"You don't want to take the statement?" though there was no surprise in Catherine's voice, Sara knew she had only asked it out of courtesy.

"Do you mind?" the other woman shrugged.

"No," a smile and a pat on the shoulder followed from Catherine.

The door to the patient's room swung open and the polite, youthful face of a nurse with a pony tail tied up so high it pulled the skin around her eyes to almost dangerous proportions, appeared between the two women.

"She's ready to have the ventilator removed," the medical specialist sparking a kind smile, "if you're ready?"

"Thanks," Sara found her to be entirely too positive, though she managed to turn here grimace into something close to a grin

"I'll be out in a bit," Catherine gave an appropriate pause to eye her cohort before heading on inside.

With her gone and the door again shut, Sara hung her head, trying to rub the pain rising in her fingers as she twisted the evidence bag in her hands.

"Sara?" she looked up as her boss came towards her.

"Yeah, yeah," Sara tried to ignore the concerned look that was rising in his features but she knew if she did the problem was only to get worse. "Just a little disenfranchised, Grissom."

"How many vacation days do you have on the books?" the man pressed.

"About ... ten weeks, I guess," Sara answered before confusion got the better of her. "Why?

"I think you should take a week or two," Grissom encouraged her, though the look she gave him told otherwise.

"I-I'm still on the case," she nearly staggered from his request. "I just didn't do the interview for once in my life."

He continued to stare at her, entirely unconvinced.

"When was the last time you took vacation?" Sara countered. "Never… right?"

"Is this about time off or something else," he noted her defensiveness, the narrowing of her eyes and the sudden rigidness to her stance.

"I just…" she tried to manage an excuse but finally just feel into "I don't feel like I can do enough. That woman was brutalized, treated like she was nothing. I should be able to do more.

"Okay," Grissom nodded, turning on his tips of his toes and making his exit.

"That's it?" Sara called after him, but he was already gone.

She could only wonder if she had just embarrassed herself in front of her supervisor

* * *

She tapped her fingers on the cheap metal table top, a bored expression in her eyes as she weighed the options before her… along with the skull in front of her.

"I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan," she sighed for the third time in a row. "I've been in Antarctica for two months identifying persevered corpses of the 1910 Terra Nova Expedition. That's where he's from."

She nodded towards the skull, though knowing the entire time the piece of bone was much older than a century old.

The 1910 Terra Nova Expedition was just the cover story Stargate Command had told them to use to explain their extended leave in Antarctica. The British voyage had been the closest failed operation to McMurdo and the classified Ancient Outpost. A forensic anthropologist studying the well preserved bodies of the five men who had perished in the frigid cold was far more believable for people to understand and raised far less questions.

Though the skull sitting before them was far older then even those Expedition members… even their most distant ancestors.

"Most people in this situation…" the Homeland Security officer commented, staring down at her as he stood on the other end of the table, "what they do is they sweat it."

"I've done a few tours through Guatemala, Peru, Afghanistan. Genocide?" Temperance mumbled, staring to play with the tips of her hair in utter boredom. "How are you scary after that?"

"You know who doesn't sweat it?" the agent again repeated. "Sociopaths."

"I'm not a Sociopath!" now Brennan's patience was starting to wear thin. "I'm an anthropologist at the Jeffersonian."

"Who works for the U.S. government," the man tapped the table for emphasis, "which I maybe believed if you had an I.D. that did more then allowed you access to the cafeteria."

She sighed.

Even if she could argue, it would do little good. Her real I.D. could allow her access to every echelon of government short of the darkest black ops operations. Hell, getting a meeting with the President with her federal classification was a snap. But outside that clearance, the only thing a Homeland Security agent could get a hold of through the upper civilian channels was merely the basic clearance she supposedly had.

To show anything higher for a civilian scientist would have raised undue notice.

The door on the far side of the room clicked open, the sound of hard soled shoes clicking on the floor. Brennan did bother to even glance at the new arrival, she already knew who it was and knew why he was here.

"You were illegally transporting human remains ma'am," the agent reiterated, "and you assaulted a Homeland Security agent."

"Look I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends but next time you should identify yourself before attacking me" she shouted before rounding her body on the man waiting on the far side of the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Davis, Pentagon, D.C.," the man smiled as he approached the table, "Doctor Brennan identifies bodies for us."

"I do more than identify," Temperance muttered under her breath, lying back in her chair, crossing her arms and eying the Colonel defensively.

"She also writes books," Davis removed the book he had been hiding under his arm and slide it across the table to the Homeland Security officer.

The other man picked the book up, noting the title 'Bred in the Bone' in blood red across the face before flipping it over to find a smiling Doctor Brennan on the other side, a tight smile as she held a clean white skull in her right hand.

"Fine," the agent shrugged, "she's all yours."

"Great," Davis smiled before turning to face Brennan, "Grab your skull and move it."

"What? That's it?" she gripped in outrage, her head swirling between the two men. "She's all yours? Why did you stop me?

"You're free to go Doctor Brennan," Paul bowed quickly to the agent as he tried to prompt her to the door, snatching her bag off the table. "Let's just grab your bags. Your flight to Colorado Springs awaits."

"You set me up," Temperance finally understood what she had inadvertently fallen into, before rounding on the agent. "You got a hold for questioning request from the Pentagon didn't you?"

The agent paused before dropping the book on the table and smiling at the good doctor.

"I love this book," he tapped the book before sliding it back to her with a knowing smirk though that only helped the frown on Temperance's face to grow wider.

* * *

The hallways of the Las Vegas Crime Lab were as dark as they were sterile. Fluorescent lights hummed, the odd piece of equipment beeped or chirped and no matter what time of day it was everyone was always on the move.

Grissom coasted along, nose buried in report while the world around buzzed by.

"Grissom!" his concentration was broken as Greg Sanders slide in beside him, test results in hand, "I have some information that will be of use to you. But, before you get it, I need a decision."

"What?" he was caught off par with Greg's sudden appearance and vague question.

"I'm tired of being on the fence here," the youngster sputtered at his superior's lack of empathy, his spiked blonde tips only adding to his agitation. "Either I'm in the lab or I'm in the field. Which is it?"

"Well," Grissom calculated his response knowing either way Greg wasn't going to like his answer, "as soon as you can find and train a replacement, you can be in the field. Until then, I need you in the lab. Now give!"

"I got a CODIS hit off the semen from your victim," with a heave of displeasure Greg handed over the results, fine black lines creating a correlative graph, "DNA matches a rape case from three-years ago."

"Still open?" Grissom asked, secretly hoping time hadn't run out and there killer had gotten away on a technicality.

Rape in Nevada only had a shelf time of four-years, they missed that window and beyond that there was nothing they could do. While the Statue of Limitations of murder never ceased and only in rare situations was it extended until the victim was 21, from what Grissom read both their victims were early 30's.

The law was not on their side for this one.

"Statute of Limitations is up in three-months," the smirk on Greg's face was matched only by the relief Gil felt. "Warrick's pulling the file."

"Good work, Greg," Grissom gave him a quick mock salute. "Thanks."

"No, thank you," the brilliant young man stated before squirreling away, back to his lab.

Grissom smiled at the kid's sudden departure, though it pained him he couldn't offer Greg more since he obviously deserved some kind of reward for the work he had done. Countless overtime hours, a almost eager to please attitude and incredible results under extreme pressure had propelled the mid-20-year old to the position of the best DNA technician Grissom had ever known in the better part of a decade.

But the lab only had so many people to go around; DNA was a high demand field with a low population will to take it on.

The hype of field work was where most in the forensic line of work flocked too and Greg was just another one of those seduced by the front-lines over the slow paced and predictable world of test tubes and Bunsen burners.

Yet if his recent conversation with Sara said anything, the work of a CSI was as exhausting as the lab work was boring. No matter where you found yourself, the draining effect this career had on you was near universal and though Grissom loved his work, sadly he could relate.

Both sides of the equation were starting to drift and Grissom had to worry if they would land on their feet, or on their behinds.

* * *

The room was hot; the air condition in the window wasn't working and the heat outside was only helping the lack of circulation rise the heat further.

He could already feel the sweat dripping down his spine, pooling at the small of his back. Try as he might, that discomfort was only adding to the unsettled feeling that was creeping into his thoughts.

Across from him sat two detectives, two men who's demeanor just screamed hostility. One was blond, the other held a mix of Latin and Italian features that made his true origins unknown. Both were dressed in button down shirts, slacks and the ever popular suspenders every detective seemed to have an excess of, though it was probably just an accessory to off put the empty gun holsters strung on their sides.

The Latino-Italian detective stood against the wall, intensely scrutinizing Shawn. Blonde on the other hand just flicked his finger against the rut in the table, causing a crunching sound on the maple wood table. Each time it just ground on Shawn's nerves as each time he fought the urge to cringe.

"So where's the reward?" Shawn asked for the up tenth time, though both men just continued to stare at him with dead eyes. He however caught a hint of irritation and knew within an instant he was quickly exhausting this route of conversation.

"Why don't you let us ask the questions for a while?" the blond detective said after a pause.

"Okay," Shawn was quick to agree, though more so because he had finally gotten a response out of one of them. Sitting here for almost five-minutes without them even speaking made him feel as if he was being silently grilled. "So, which questions might those be?"

"Oh, I don't know," the man against the wall drew the words out in a long drawl, thick in a Northern Californian accent. "Like… Where were you the night of the last robbery?"

"I was robbing a stereo shop," Shawn tried to laugh but when all he got was stoic looks, he reined in his smile. "I wasn't. …Eh-hem. I don't know. I guess I was doing the same thing you were doing… not solving crime."

His joke didn't help to break the ice, in fact he thought he had only made it worse.

"You're not helping your case here," the blond detective grumbled.

"My case?" Shawn asked before the realization dawned on him and he started to sputter. "Wa... wai... wait. I'm actually a suspect?"

"Oh," the detective pushed off the wall, slowly stalking around Shawn like a shark circling his prey, "you're our lead suspect!"

"I gave you the guy!" Shawn tried to protest, even as he felt like he was only sinking farther and farther into hot water.

"He had a partner," the man sitting across from him added. "Evidence says some of these robberies could only have been pulled off with a lookout or accomplice."

"Wh- I have to find that guy?" he grumbled, folding his hands over his chest and leaning back into his chair to put as much distance between these two idiots as possible. "I'm confused. When do you start chipping in?"

"Your information was good," the stalker now turned in, leaning across the table as he stared into Shawn's eyes. "So good, it could only have come from the inside."

"Inside of what?" Shawn nearly fell out of his chair at that accusation. "Wait you think I did this!?"

* * *

"Hey, Grissom," Catherine smiled as she approached her boss, dressed in her usual suit jacket and slacks after a long day in court. "What's up?"

"Just reviewing some of the personnel files," he tilted his glasses down as he continued to walk, an opened manila folder in his hands, Catherine falling in beside him.

"You, doing paperwork?" to say she was surprised was an understatement. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the older gentleman offered a smile but the dark look she shot him was direct confirmation that his excuse had failed.

"Gil," Catherine's hand landed on her shoulder, forcing him to stop and face her directly, "last year I had to do your quarter reviews. I didn't mind forging your signature but I know you avoid paper work as much as you can. Unless of course something is wrong."

"Just thinking," he tried to shrug her off but the manicured fingers on his shoulder only grew tighter. "I'll let you know when I figure it out. Okay?"

"Fine," she heaved sigh before turning into the nearest lab, to which Grissom quickly followed her. "What have you got for us, Nicky?

"I compared the eight pairs of shoes prints we collected at the crime scene versus the one's we gathered from the suspect's home," Nick Stokes groaned, the work table in front of him littered with imprints of every imaginable shoe impression and the deep rings under his eyes were obvious indications his failure had come after one long all-nighter. "No matches."

"Well," Catherine tried to offer him a smile for his intensive but futile work, "he could've ditched the shoes anywhere."

"Expand the search radius along the victim's route back to the store," Grissom suggested, taping the foulder in his hands as he thought out their next step in the investigation. "All likelihood is he back tracked the same way he came."

"Yeah, sure," Nick however was lethargic from exhaustion and unwilling to give in to any positive thoughts.

Moving on they stepped into the adjoining lab, where Greg in his white lab coat huddled over racks and racks of sample tubes.

"So," Grissom greeted the lab tech, though the bitter look he was shot was something else, "what's new Greg?"

"Well, according to the DNA results," Greg handed over his newest results with a grimace and a frown, "he's not your rapist. However half his alleles are matches for our rapist."

"You're kidding," Catherine had been sure this suspect was their guy. "So that means it his brother, father, uncle?"

"Seven out of thirteen alleles are identical," Sanders offered however, "which means we're looking for a sibling."

"I believe the semen would indicate a brother," Grissom surmised.

"But she picked him out of a line up," Catherine wondered out loud as the newest evidence fell on the table. "What are the chances? She was so sure."

* * *

"That's the best you can do?" Brennan shouted as she trailed behind the military officer.

Lieutenant-Colonel Davis had managed to usher her into one of the many service corridors under Washington Dulles Airport before she had caused too much of a scene, though Temperance would have loved to ream him out in public instead of trying to chase after him.

Whereas she was infuriated, he just kept a casual stroll, even as they moved through the dark, cement made tunnel. In the distance the roar of landing airplanes hinted they were near the landing strips that crisscrossed the airport's southern boundaries, the grounding roar leaving a low baritone rumble in the background.

"What?" Davis grinned, pulling the brim of his cap a bit lower to hide his face from the fuming doctor.

"Getting Homeland Security to snatch me so you can stage a fake rescue," Temperance knew exactly what she had been duped into. "Not a very original idea!"

"Worked didn't it?" the Lieutenant-Colonel caste her a glance before moving on. "Well at least I picked you up at the airport… huh? I went through the appropriate channels but your assistant attempted to stonewalled me."

"Yeah, well I made it clear I was not going on this mission," Brennan angrily protested. "He's a good assistant. He respects my wishes, unlike you."

"Well, then you won't like this next part," Paul laughed, finally coming to a halt at a four way intersections in the tunnel. He slide a small radio from his belt and quickly brought it to his lips. "Davis, we're go."

"What are you-"

Brennan's question died in her throat as a white light consumed everything she could see, rising up and over her like the incoming tide.

The dark, dank tunnel flashed away and clean, metallic walls replaced them... along with a wide-open window overlooking a slowly turning Earth from orbit.

"Welcome to the Prometheus, Doctor Brennan," Davis stifled a chuckle as Temperance's eyes nearly bulged in her skull.

Slowly she approached the window, trying not to flinch as she noticed the incredible distance between herself and the deep blue waters below her... several thousand meters below.

The Prometheus was the U.S. Airforce and Earth's only starship, constituting the sum wealth of information the Stargate Program had brought back during their extensive travels. However it was also still recovering from its intensive battle over Antarctica.

Temperance could still see scorch marks on several bulkheads and through the corridor behind them, numerous repair crews were at work to get the warship's systems back online.

"I would prefer not to have my atoms broken down," Temperance grumbled before she rounded on him in anger, "into their basic quantum elements before being transmitted several hundred thousand miles into orbit. Besides being on a space going vessel named after a Greek tragedy which is just asking for it."

"Alright listen," Paul had had enough and Temperance could see her complaining had finally hit home. "You _are_ the foremost forensic anthropologist in the world. More papers have been written quoting you then you yourself have written. This Expedition is about to encounter the first civilization on Earth, people who built technology generations ahead of anything we could dream up. We need you-"

"Thank you very much," the doctor cut him off with a resentful stare, "but no!"

Paul knew this was going to be an uphill battle. Doctor Brennan was one of the brightest minds in the world and if she wasn't through that Stargate, they'd all regret it.

"You could be discovering bodies older then modern homo-sapiens have existed," he tried to appeal to the scientist in her. "Don't tell me that doesn't peak your interest?"

"I think this can be considered kidnapping?" Temperance mused, not even paying attention to him as she continued to stare out into the space outside. "Being taken without my permission and coerced into doing something I don't want to."

"You know what," the man huffed feeling as if this uphill had just become a war. "I'm trying to mend bridges here."

"I find you very condescending," she tried not to smile as her eyes turned to regard him.

"Me? I'm condescending?" Paul couldn't help to hide the skeptical feeling at her words. "I'm not the one who mentions that she's got a doctorate every five…"

"I am the one with the doctorate," Temperance noted without a hint of attention to her companion who's face had started to rise in color.

"Yeah," he accepted, "and I'm the one with the uniform and a gun."

"Male bravado," the doctor proposed as she analyzed him like a science experiment, "attempting to assert your dominance through the use of cultural status and displays of weaponry."

She was trying to one up him, using her intelligence to cause him as much annoyance and discomfort just like he had done to her. The tactic was working and Temperance was enjoying it to great lengths. Doctor Brennan was a logical woman however Paul had read her personal dossier, the one she knew about and the one the government had on her. Neither did the woman justice but it did give Paul an idea.

"Doctor Brennan," his voice dropped to a deep, intense tone that caught the doctor's attention somehow, "think about this. You are dealing with people, the most advance people ever to evolve. But we know nothing about them. How they lived, who they were. Other than the artifacts they happened to leave lying around or the Stargates themselves, nothing remains. An entire civilization that disappeared from the face of the universe in barely a night and after more than a decade after we activated the Stargate we still don't know anything about them besides what trinkets they dropped millions of years ago. You have the chance to give these people a voice, a face, to speak for an entire evolution of the human species. This Expedition is intended to find out more about the Ancients… not just their technology but the people themselves. What's it going to take to get you on this operation?"

Temperance regarded him for a moment, as if trying to size him up for what he was and what he stood for.

Finally her shoulders dropped, her stance became relaxed and the cutting edge in her voice disappeared.

"I get to pick my own team," she said after a thought.

"What's wrong with the people Doctor Weir chose?" the Lieutenant-Colonel asked.

"Nothing," the woman shrugged, "but they were chosen by the government and then given to her to pick the best. No offense, but you gave her a bunch of idiots."

"Done," didn't even pause, giving the hint he was more interested in her membership on this Expedition than any other. "You get four people to chose. No criminal records though."

"Fine" she accepted, quickly removing her cell phone from her pocket. "I'll make the call... I'm not getting any reception,"

"You know for a genius," Davis mumbled at the sight, "you're not that bright."

"I have a doctorate," Temperance declared.

"Doctor Brennan," the military man stated slowly, as if she had a learning disability, "the Prometheus is in orbit. The closest cell phone tower is several thousand meters below us. I think you're a bit outside your calling zone."

"Oh," she noted before snapping the cell phone shut. "Can you please transport me back to Earth?"

"Might as well follow me to my next appointment then. We need to pick up another delinquent member of the Expedition."

* * *

"…Look," Shawn protested, trying to convince the two unconvinced detectives sitting across from him. "I've called in dozens of tips. Okay? Just check it out."

"I did. I checked out a whole lot of stuff. Like…" the slowly stalking detective suddenly withdrew a folder, from where Shawn had no idea. He quickly started rifling through its contents, smirking and even laughing at what it contained. "Oh! You're currently unemployed. Never held a job for more than six months. And, you have a criminal record."

"I was eighteen," Shawn just shrugged off the accusation, though suddenly the fact he would look them in the eyes peaked their interests.

They had struck a nerve.

"Eighteen? Oh, well that makes it okay," the blond only mocked him, his yellow teeth just screamed at Shawn as the man attempted a smile. "Let me just scratch this out."

"Fine," Shawn said after enough time, "I borrowed a car-

"You stole a car," the dark skinned detective corrected.

He however only paused to allow the commentary before continuing, "-to impress a girl. Would it help at all if I told you that she had a bit of a reputation and that I wanted her… look it was high school? There were extenuating circumstances. The arresting officer was my father. He was trying to teach me a lesson."

"Did ya learn it?" the stalking detective laughed.

"I learned I hated my father," he quickly shot the man a seething glare, enough so that the point got across about how he felt about those memories. "So, sure."

"Well, pardon me if I'm just a little skeptical," the one sitting across from him ground his finger back into that grove on the table top, grinding it slowly against Shawn's nerves. "Believable as it is that you solved all these crimes while watching- I'm sorry, what was it? Watching the local Channel 8 News reports."

"I confess," both detectives nearly jumped on his words but he could stifle a grin as he went further. "Sometimes I watch Channel 5. I prefer Channel 8. The weather girl? Adorable."

"So you're telling us that you can read guilt off of TV interviews?" the stalker propositioned, even as Shawn could feel his eyes burning into the back of his skull. "Don't you try and trivialize police work."

"I think you're doing a bang up job of that all by yourself," Shawn knew he had read the man correctly, all uniform and such but he was merely another police officer on a power trip. Finally having enough he pushed back from the table and heading towards the door. "You can't keep me here, guys. I know my rights."

"Good," the blonde grinned as he removed himself from his seat, as he approached Shawn. Without a pause, he grabbed the young man's arm, spun him around and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto his right wrist. "Then you know you have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you."

"W-w-wait. You're serious?" no answer came as he was hauled from the room and out onto the office floor.

"A few hours in a holding cell might jog your memory," his partner called as he trailed behind, enjoying the situation for every ounce it was worth.

Shawn managed a gulp as he was pushed through the throng of officers and criminals, towards the awaiting holding cells. Long bars dropped from the ceiling, with cold lackluster walls as the only thing hold in the angered and barbaric men back from the world around them.

One in particular was roared at the sight of him, the '_Bloodthirsty_' tattoo on his forehead was the only thing Shawn could recognize on his bright red face as he slammed his fists into the bars to get a grasp at him.

"Just give us a reason, Mr. Spencer," the one holding him in cuffs whispered in his ear, "that's all we need. How did you get this information?"

"No. It is too late for that," the partner shook his head, coming around to click a key into the nearby cell door. "Officer Allen? Book him. Or you could give us a plausible explanation?"

Shawn was grasping at straws. He knew he'd only survive for so long, especially with his tattooed biker companion just itching to thank him for his advice earlier. But he had already tried the truth and that had fail spectacularly. His options were running out and fast.

"I'm... ah.... I..." He stammered, trying to come up with something. "I-"

"That'll be enough," all three men turned to see the voice that had called a stop to their exchange.

Coming through the door was a military officer, if Shawn remembered his insignias and he knew he did, the man was U.S. Airforce. Behind him a woman in a white t-shirt, brown caprices and a sour look in her eyes, followed him in.

But instead of jumping for glee that he was rescued, Shawn's frown nearly matched that of the newcomer's woman.

"Who the heck are you?" the arresting officer shouted, confused at how a military man had an interest in their quarry.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Davis, Pentagon," the man removed his hat as he introduced the woman beside him. "This is Doctor Brennan, anthropologist with the Jeffersonian Institute. We're here to relieve you of Mr. Spencer."

"Oh, you again!" Shawn actually laughed, even as he was still being angled towards the holding cell. "Wait what do you mean to 'relieve me'."

Davis never answered Shawn, never even looked at the man directly, as he handed over a signed letter to the nearest officer, the dark skinner man who circled him the entire time in the interrogation room.

"I believe this should be enough for you to reconsider," Davis sported a delightful smile, even if it was obviously fake as the arresting officer snatched the piece of paper he offered.

"Signed by the ADA," the man's eyes bugged out as he read further, "_and_ the Police Chief... Let 'em go."

"If I told you once I've told you a thousand times," Shawn shouted again, "no!"

"Fine, then I'll get out of your way," Davis nodded as he slowly turned to leave. "Officers, good day! Doctor Brennan, if you would."

"No, no!" Shawn suddenly changed his tune as he realized his position on the high ground was starting to walk away. "Okay, I'll come quietly."

"I thought you said no one with a criminal record," Temperance mumbled in Davis' ear, eyeing the man in question with concern.

"Not everyone we choose is an idiot, Doctor," the Lieutenant-Colonel short her a smile. "Now let's move."

* * *

Nick sighed as he poured the coffee into his mug, enjoying the sweet smell of Hawaiian Blue. It was Greg's favorite blend and though the young lab tech would protest someone usurping his coffee, one glare from Nick's exhaustion would send him running. Everyone was giving him a wide berth, even his best friend Warrick had disappeared after barely three words, 'feel better, man' and then he was gone before Nick could manage a glance.

He leaned back against the lumpy break room couch and even though his muscles screamed as he pressed them against the sharp springs. He almost enjoyed the absolute discomfort with perverse pleasure. Anything that took the weight off his screaming body was total relaxation to him, regardless of how it felt.

Within a minute of laying back, his eyes began to droop and sleep began to rise over his conscious mind like the incoming tide.

If the sound of the fridge opening hadn't woken him he would have dozed off right there.

"Oh hey, Grissom," Nick yawned, "sorry I'll get out of your way."

"Don't move on my account," his boss smiled as he removed a jar of something black and foul smelling from what was supposed to be for the employee's bag lunches. "Doesn't your shift start in another three hours?"

"Yeah," the younger man laughed as he pushed himself up, "I figured never left, might as well catch a few before getting back on the job."

"Are you okay?" Gil pressed.

Nick didn't look like himself, his eyes were bloodshot, a shadow of stubble grew on his chin and hair was unnaturally unkempt. If Grissom had been paying attention he would have likened Nick to most drug addicts waiting it out in de-tox.

"Fine," Nick lie was quickly done away with as another yawn completed his sentence.

The look Grissom shot him told him he was busted.

"I... I...," Nick finally conceded as exhaustion made lying worthless and unappealing to him. "I just feel like the thrill is going out of the job. When I was a cop I always felt like I could do something more to help and that was why I became a CSI. But now..."

"Nick, if you're starting to burn out I can arrange for some off time," Gil warned his team member as any supervisor should.

If Nick was starting to reach the end of his limits, it was better to give him some freedom to breath before he had an inevitable breakdown. Not only was that bad for the lab but the damage it caused to its victim was crippling. He had seen many a good CSI go down in flames.

"No, it's not like that," Nick was quick to defend himself before he found himself in a psychological review with the lab supervisor. "I love my job and I look forward to it. But as a cop I ran down criminals but after that I could do nothing as the legal system took control. As a CSI, I'm a part of that system but feel like I'm removing myself from protecting the public. I know it's confusing to explain."

"I know what you're trying to say, Nick," Grissom agreed, bringing some relief to Nick who thought he had gone a bit too far. "Take the day off, I insist. You pulled a triple and you need some down time if you're going to be of any use to us again."

"Thanks, Grissom," Nick slowly began to rise but another yawn forced him back down. "I think I'll just wait here for a bit..."

* * *

The transporter deposited them into the hangar, the vast yet empty structure only helped to make the hum of the energy transfer to send a deafening echo through the air as it reverberated off the steel ceiling.

Shawn guessed since they probably weren't outside Santa Barbara because the cloud cover outside was near identical to that of the police station and the air still held the same metallic smog taste it did all over southern California, they were most likely at the Santa Barbara Municipal Airport.

"Well beam down, Scotty," he smirked as he made sure all his limbs were intact. "How many times are you going to harass me. I am not being sent to some long forgotten city just because you want to cash in on me."

"You appeared to doing poorly without Davis' attention," Temperance added, quickly showing she was not going to take Shawn's inattentiveness.

"Mr. Spencer," the Lieutenant-Colonel stared down his former from under the brim of his hat, "you're already in hot water and those officers only had your _known_ criminal record. We have been kind enough to overlook and even remove some of your larger dealings with the law in the spirit of your contributions to the government."

"You mean screening terror suspects you wrongfully imprisoned at Gauntanamo Bay?" Shawn laughed. "Yeah that was great. See if terrorist eye winks in the right pattern, fidgets just enough during questioning or screams your an infidel. All I had to memorize all the faces on the Homeland Security, FBI and CIA's top wanted before playing point the finger 'cause you guys can't tell a fake beard from a plastic nose."

"He's has an eidetic memory. Amazing," Temperance stared at the man intensely, obviously impressed. "That trait is usually on associated with austic savants."

"Thank you... I think," Shawn said a bit uncertain before turning an eye to the officer. "What's with her?"

"Doctor Brennan," Paul nodded to the man beside him who was shooting her a wilily smile, "meet Shawn Spencer. He's an expert in human body language and observational skills. Because of his efforts we have been able to close some of the biggest international crime cases including three of the ten most wanted people by the U.S. government. Temperance is the top forensic anthropologist in the world. If they found your skeleton scattered across more than a dozen acres, she'd be the one to make the ID."

"Pleasure," Shawn extended his hand, "I have always found beauty and brawn are a delicious combination."

Brennan however did not move from the stop, instead just staring the man down with cold indifference.

"While your observational skills are excellent," she said, as she regarded him with only mild interest, "your sexual appeal to me is non-existent."

"I don't know if I was just shot down and or psychologically analyzed," Shawn laughed.

"Then it is a good time as any to tell you," the Lieutenant-Colonel clapped his hands together and tried to hide the smile growing on his face, "that Doctor Brennna is your new boss."

Neither person laughed. If any Paul would swear the glare either gave them was going to melt him into the concrete floor.

"I said I wasn't going," Shawn shouted again. Paul tried to question him but he wasn't having any of it. "Don't bother to quote what I said at the holding cells. That was out of desperation and coercion."

"Oh that's fine," Davis nodded, understanding almost completely, "but if you leave this hangar, some these overlooked transgressions maybe leaked to local law enforcement. I'm sure those two detectives from the Santa Barbara police department would just love to get you back into the holding cells."

"So I'm being blackmailed to be sent to another galaxy where death is a very likely end," the man was incredulous. "Yeah, I wonder why not spending my days cooling it in prison sounds so horrible!"

Paul immediately began to turn to leave. "If you like it that way then-"

"Fine!" Shawn cried, throwing his hands up in the air in anguish. "But if we ever get back to Earth, those files are burned and then I get to kick your ass so we can start some new ones."

"Deal," Paul nodded.

The ring of a cell phone echoed through hangar and after a brief moment both men turned towards Doctor Brennan.

"I think that's you?" Shawn nodded to the young woman.

She swiftly removed the small device from her pocket and checked the ID tag on the cover.

"Prefect," she smiled before flipping open the phone and pressing it to her ear. "Hello. Yes, Doctor Grissom, it's Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian. How have you been?"

"Good, Temperance," the much older man's voice crackled through speaker of the tiny piece of plastic. "How has my old assistant been lately?"

"Doing fine," Brennan smiled, remembering the good times trapped in the Las Vegas crime lab as a grad student. "I was calling you in regards to... Project Giza. Are you secure?"

Over the phone she head an audible click before Gil responded.

"I am now," he acknowledged. "How can I be of service?"

"I've been appointed the leader of the anthropological team," she explained quickly, knowing that a cell phone was a dangerous place to discuss such things, "on the Pegasus Project and I need a team in place. A forensic entomologist would certainly be a suitable addition."

The pause was length before Grissom sighed.

"That is an very big honor," he tried to suppress a gracious thank you before he moved onto the bad news, "but I'm going to have to decline... though how would you like three better offers instead?"

* * *

She sighed, taking a breath to enjoy the limo ride, the cool black leather feeling good after so long in the Spartan conditions at the Ancient Outpost. Outside her dim tinted windows the lights of London rolled past, the night and rainy weather had driven most of the city's denizens inside leaving the sidewalks empty.

She almost wished to see some life, out in the frozen Antarctic had left her wishing for a normal life and being in the largest metropolises in the United Kingdom had left her aching for some human contact.

But she was here on business and the moment this was out of the way she would be on a plane home to Simon.

Turning around another street corner, she could make out the open plaza of Canary Wharf, the skyscrapers of one of London's primary business and commercial center rising up to tower over the short houses and shops that surrounded them.

The drive slowed and Elizabeth quickly found her door being opened by a familiar, smiling face.

"General Hammond," the greeting was genuine as she exited out into the wet air to stand beside the Air Force officer, "it's so good to see you again."

"Likewise," the Texan grinned before gesturing to join him on their trek inside. "Though I wish it was under clearer skies."

They moved quickly towards the tallest building, the towering boxy appearance of One Canada Square, or more locally called Canary Wharf Tower, loomed in the mists of a passing midnight storm. At over 50-stories high, it was one of the highest buildings in the entire country and because of its near biblical position overlooking the capital city of the United Kingdom the IOA had chosen it as their primary headquarters.

Inside the warm air of the lobby was a welcomed feeling and for the first time in months Elizabeth truly felt warm without the need for a heavy winter coat.

Hammond must have noticed her pleasure in the relieving weather and couldn't even try to hide a laugh as they entered the nearest elevator.

"I see the tropics of Antarctica haven't agreed with you," he grinned as the car began to rise.

"Let just say I will never complain about a winter in D.C. again," she smirked, turning slowly to stare at the shorter, larger man beside her. "So what's the likelihood that the IOA has pulled me off my return trip home to bicker some more about my mission?" .

"I can't divulge anything until we're there, Doctor," she had to admit, George Hammond was an excellent choice to be the United States chairman for the IOA.

After a pause of around thirty more seconds, the elevator beeped and they arrived on the top floor…. the IOA's territory.

Elizabeth's ears were immediately overpowered by the voices, dozens of different languages, accents and words overcoming her in a linguistic experience. Even in the dead of night the IOA never slept. With personnel stationed all over the world, down at the pole and even off-world, they were always on duty for any crisis.

The General and Doctor were given a wide berth, obviously their reputation proceeded them. Quickly she was ushered across the main floor and into the nearest conference room.

Before her the five leaders of the International Oversight Advisor sat at attention, all eyes turning towards her.

"Doctor Weir," Chairman Reuben Aarons, the leader of the UK contingent for the IOA, "it is good to see you again. Welcome back to civilization."

"Gentlemen," she nodded as she took the only seat left for her, General Hammond quickly taking position on the other side of the table. "Though I was a bit surprised when I was diverted from McMurdo to London."

"Vith the discovery of Atlantis' true location the IOA felt that a face to face meeting vas necessary," the Russian Chairman, General Piotr Chekov, announced in a thick accent. "Ve have some concerns that could not vait to be discussed."

"I thought my Expedition was already given the green light?" Weir countered our argument.

"We all agreed that the Atlantis Expedition is by far one of the most important moments in human history since the Stargate was activated," Chairman Gan Zheng, the Chinese IOA appointee, announced. "We are not here to impede it but however we do have apprehension about one individual in particular."

Elizabeth had already guessed where this meeting was truly headed.

"I will defend my choice to place Major Sheppard on this operation to the fullest of my ability," she stated quickly as the anger rose at their gall to call her here.

"Major Sheppard is not the reason you have been called here," General Hammond contradicted to Elizabeth's surprise. "He has already contacted General O'Neill and accepted. I trust Jack with my life and if he says the Major should be on the mission I accept that without question. Given his _unique_ qualifications we have decided to overlook his previous disciplinary problems for the benefit they will provide on the mission."

"Then why am I being called to this meeting?" Elizabeth asked.

"The Expedition member we have concern about," French Chairwoman Malaina Frair clarified, "is you."

"Me?!" Weir could barely contain her confusion.

"While you are a skilled diplomat," Aarons explained, "notably your work in North Africa, a dozen different international agreements and your tenure in the Stargate Program is exemplary; the IOA is concerned about placing a civilian in charge of such an undertaking."

"Wasn't it a year ago I was appointed to run the Stargate Program because you felt the military had a 'heavy-hand' approach to interstellar missions," her outrage was starting to rise again. "How is this any different?"

"Doctor Weir," Hammond tried to put on a calming face, though he knew it was only going to go so far. "We're are about to send over a hundred and fifty men and women into the unknown with no guarantee they'll ever return home, to possibly one of the greatest technological discoveries of the era. If you want us to green light this program some concessions are going to be made. One of those is that while you are incredibly qualified to run the Stargate Program… you are not for an off-world operation on this magnitude."

"The isolation, lack of reinforcements and chance that you will never come back," Zheng described as the other Chairpersons nodded for effect, "is one of the major problems the IOA had approving this program. We have decided that a civilian leadership is not strong enough to survive an extend separation from Earth… or even the Milky Way for that matter."

"And a military one is more appropriate?" Elizabeth argued. "I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to save my own behind but wasn't it the military operations of the SGC that started the war with the Goa'uld. We are about to enter an entirely new galaxy, shouldn't we try to avoid repeating history?"

"Doctor Weir," Friar's voice dropped to barely a hiss, "if you want your Expedition to even leave this room on this matter we will not concede. We have decided to appoint a military 'governor' to lead your people to Atlantis and command them there. On all other matters you will be consulted but we will not deviate on this topic."

"You vill be retained as second in command," General Chekov continued. "Your position vill be just as important and fulfilling but as of this moment… you are no longer in charge of Expedition."

"And who is?" she inquired, trying with all her might to contain her indignation.

"I believe you've already meet," Hammond explained… an instant before the sound of the door opening behind Elizabeth caused her to whirl around.

"You?!" was all she could manage.


	4. Chapter Four: Office of Departure

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Four – Office of Departure

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback**: Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

The stu was cooking, delicious smelling steam rose up from the pot as the slow boiling chunks of beef rose and sunk in the thick liquid. Stirring a spoon through the concoction, he turned back to the rest of the meal, the aroma of fresh cut carrots tingling his nose as he grabbed a handful of the vegetables and dumped them into the nearby bowl of lettuce.

It was an important night, dinner had to be perfect, the table had to be immaculate and the lighting just ever so dimmed to enhance the mood. The roast still had a few more minutes and Elizabeth wasn't due home for another half an hour, just enough time for him to finish preparations and greet her without any distractions.

A chime echoed through the kitchen, a heavenly beat Elizabeth and him had chosen last summer. He found it a little bit queer for his tastes but it had grown on him.

"She's early," he mumbled, turning down the heat on the stove top so the stu wouldn't burn and heading towards the front door.

Through the white, afternoon sun spilling into the foyer, he couldn't help the smile and flashing white teeth that dominated his face as he grasped the tiny gold knob.

"You're always early, Elizabeth-" the laugh died in his throat when he noticed the two men standing in black suites and dark sunglasses on the other-side. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"Simon Wallis?" the man on the left inquired, his only distinguishing feature from his companion was his short, dirty blond hair and cleft chin. When he nodded in confirmation the man gave a quick bow of his head. "Agent Malcom Barrett, National Intelligence Department. We have a message from your fiancé, Doctor Elizabeth Weir."

The man immediately produced a small DVD, wrapped in a clear white plastic casing and the official seal of the President plastered on its top. He gingerly took it from Agent Barrett's hands, fearing what it could possibly contain. He had been in and out of Washington enough to know the real seal of the Command-in-Chief when he saw it.

"We've been instructed to give you privacy while your viewing it," the government official explained, "the moment your finished we'll have to destroy it's contents but will be happy to answer all your questions."

"Uh... thank you?" Simon managed, still a bit lost and confused at what was going on but obviously this was serious.

He quickly closed the door, managing to make it to the living room before he even started to comprehend what was going on.

The government had sent two government agents with a message carrying a President seal from his fiancé who was suppose to be here in half an hour. What was going on?

Sliding the small, slivery disk into the DVD player, he activated the CD to find the vision of his fiancé sitting in a plush arm chair. He couldn't image where she was... until he spotted the iconic Big Ben, the morning sun rising over it, in the window behind her.

The pause option waited only an instance before it started to play.

"Simon," she said his name with a reluctant sigh, "if you're watching this, it means the President has been kind enough to grant you security clearance. I wish I could tell you in person... to be there with you... but I can't. The least I owe you is to tell you what is going on. I'm not going on a diplomatic mission to another country. I'm going to another planet, in another galaxy, by means of a device called the Stargate."

For a second he thought this was a joke, until he realized that Elizabeth didn't joke. The two agents on his patio also added weight to what his lover had just professed.

"Millions of years ago," the prerecorded message continued to play, "there was a race of beings who we call the Ancients. They created a network of these Stargates throughout our galaxy in order to travel freely among their worlds. We don't know why but they left for another galaxy somewhere millions of years ago, taking their entire city along with them. That city was called Atlantis. I have been assembling an Expedition team in order to try and find Atlantis and hopefully the Ancients who left Earth all those years ago. I want to do this Simon with all my heart, you know me well enough to know I could never turn down an opportunity like this but I wanted the chance to tell you th-"

His finger hit the pause button before he knew he had.

This was too much, aliens, other worlds, finding a mythical city. Now he knew Elizabeth didn't joke but the audacity of these claims were just too much.

He snatched the cordless phone from the table beside him and dialed the number he knew now as an afterthought.

There was only one ring, a click and then a computer voice speaking through the phone. "_The cellular customer you are trying to reach is currently outside the coverage area_..."

If this was true, that was the understatement of the year.

* * *

He knew he was in trouble the moment his eyes started traveling down her body, taking every curve and supple angle of the petite form in to excessive delight... until he heard the fingers snap and perturbed huff.

Eyes shot up to flash a guilt but a tiny hint of enjoyment as he looked up into the face of the girl he had just ogled. A fine plucked eyebrow rose and those auburn orbs filled with just a hint of vexation.

"Doctor Sheppard?" she crossed her arms across her chest, giving him a slanted but joking stare. "You did not just check out my ass?"

"Oh, come on, Carla," Derek Sheppard tried to lighten the mood with a laugh, "give me one good reason why you wouldn't go out with me?"

"We're about to be sent to another galaxy," Carla Espinosa leered at him, as if the reason they were here needed any further thought. She tapped the clipboard in her hands also. "Plus I have work."

"Seriously," he pressed.

"Well, you're a surgeon," the young Hispanic woman shrugged. "So, you've got the god-complex, the cockiness. You're cute, love the hair but you're very, very aware of it. You have no idea what I'm like, so all of your feelings for me are coming from," she pointed down a finger towards Sheppard's lower regions to get the point across, "down there. But most of all, I'm looking for the real thing; and you're nothing but a little boy who's not used to being told '_No_'. So there's a bunch of reasons. Pick your favorite... oh yeah and your married."

The smile dropped from Sheppard's face. "I am not married."

"Read your file when it crossed Doctor Beckett's desk," Carla admitted. "Well, I'm not suppose to but after your picture fell out I just had to check you out."

"So, you do think I'm cute," the smile returned to his lips.

"And I don't date married men," she smirked right back at him.

"Well, that's good for me then," the feminine voice behind Sheppard suddenly caused the doctor to suddenly stiffen as he turned abruptly.

A head of bright curly red hair was all Derek saw as he pivoted to regard the woman behind him. Carla took the stunned look on the man's face as a hint to take her exit, scurrying out of the room to finish her work elsewhere.

"Addison!" Derek couldn't help his surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," she was trying to come off as coy but he wasn't falling for it, "you'd know if you'd bothered to return any one of my phone calls."

He ran his eyes up and down body. She looked good, but he was more concerned with the military fatigues and medical vest she was wearing or the equipment backpack she had slung over her shoulder.

"Addison, what are you doing here?" was the only logical question he could come up with.

But she easily sidestepped the question. "Your hair's different."

"A lot of things are different," Derek growled.

"It's longer," she continued to ignore the line of questioning, instead continuing to pay attention to his changed appearance. "I like it. It's very Russell Crowe."

She reached up, about to run her finely manicured fingers through his locks with delightful relish... but instead Derek intercepted her hand in his own as he pulled it back.

"What are you doing here?" Derek drew out his words, drawing a long breath through his clenched teeth between echo one.

"What are you doing here?" Addison turned the question back around him with equal annoyance. "You just pick up and leave everything? Your house, your practice, your friends? You had a life in Manhattan. Imagine my surprise when Stargate Command approached me and said my husband had already signed on to the Expedition."

"The ice you're on. Thin," he drew the words out dangerously. "And I'm not your husband."

The last time he had seen Addison she had been in the arms of his best friend... naked... in their bed. He had picked up everything and left after that without once looking back.

"Well," she sneered at him, "we're not divorced, our marriage hasn't been annulled and being as one of us isn't dead, by common law we're still together."

"You're not going on this Expedition," Derek grumbled as he glared at her with daggers in his eyes.

"I am," she returned his infuriation with an equal amount of authority. "There are 154 people on this mission, including you and me. 65 of those are women. They are going to need someone specializing in obstetrics plus gynecology, and especially if this mission is, God forbid, one way we may also need a world-class midwife on hand. And now that my husband is going to be stuck with me, it gives us some perfect time to work on our marriage."

Derek's wits were at their ends. "We're not-"

"Listen up everyone," the quarreling couple turned... and then looked down as a short Black woman waltzed into the room, her green fatigues holding crisp to her body as she addressed the room, "because I'm only going to say this once. I'm Doctor Miranda Bailey, in charge of your sorry behinds on this god forsaken expedition to god forsaken who knows where. I have five rules. Memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother sucking up. I already hate you, that's not gonna change."

"Oh, just lovely," someone muttered and both Sheppard craned their heads to the side as blond beside them moved forward to join them. Her face was intense and her body held itself like a coiled serpent ready to strike.

If Doctor Bailey had heard anything, she hadn't let alone as her eyes bore into the three surgeons.

"This mission cross," she addressed, "the boundaries of the unknown and dumps us all into science fiction impossibility. You four people make up the surgical unit for this operation. You are in charge of all traumas, labs, workups and everything else under the medical sun. You don't get the luxury of having everything done for you, this is an expedition so we're roughing it."

She paused just long enough to fix each of them with an appraising look before continuing.

"You answer every page at a run. A run!" as she talked Doctor Bailey began to walk out of the room. The trio only stood their ground but when she turned and shot them a glare that could melt marble they quickly snatched their packs off the ground and rushed to follow Miranda out into the halls of the SGC with stumbling precision. "That's rule number two. When we arrive you will be responsible for the health and well being of the other 151 members of this operation. You're slow and people die. No one to replace them. That includes you. Everyone else here has the common courtesy to bust their asses, you return the same."

"Doctor Bailey," Carla caught her as the group came around the corner and handed over the tablet computer in her hands. "I need you to sign off on these."

"Of course," Miranda stopped just long enough to give her John Hancock before continuing on with her charges in tow. "Now Nurse Espinosa presence brings me to my next point. Nurses. You have four of the highest trained women out there and only four. That's rule number three. Don't fight over the nurses. They are split between the surgical staff, Doctor Beckett and his second in command, Doctor Keller. Rule number four. I catch you fighting over the nurses I won't hesitate to deck you. Nurse Espinos can quote me on that, Doctor Beckett approves such measures. We clear?"

They all quickly bobbed their heads in confirmation but when Miranda didn't continue, they all shot each other a worried glance before one brave soul raised her hand.

"Yes, Doctor Hahn?" Bailey asked the woman trailing behind the two Sheppards.

"You said five rules," Erica Hahn noted. "That was only … four."

"Rule number five," her voice was as cold as iron as she spoke, grounding her words as deep into them as possible. "We are embarking into the unknown. Those of you who have weak bladders, hearts and constitutions please tell me now so I can kick you out of this Expedition before you become my problem later. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," they all quickly shouted in succession.

"Then welcome to Stargate Command," she congratulated, "grab your packs, gear up. We leave in the galaxy in twenty minutes."

* * *

The lift opened and to say the scene beyond was a view of controlled chaos.

Cargo pallets rolled across the floor, being pushed and pulled by dozens of people. Each was in a similar uniform, cold gray with lines of yellow, red, blue or purple across their shoulders. Scientists, doctors, soldiers dressed in fatigues, all moved with purpose and direction.

But the air, while full of voices and orders flying back and forth as the rush of discovery and adrenaline filled them, it came in over a dozen different languages.

"I mean. I narrowed it down to about three things," Doctor McKay smiled as he turned the corner with Doctor Pavana Das, an Indian inorganic chemist, "but after a week, I chose citrus allergy medication."

"Doctor McKay," the woman tried to stifle a laugh as they worked, "you are aware they stated medical needs are exempted from the one personal item rule."

"You're serious!" McKay was stunned.

As they moved on into the madness, Lieutenant Ford was caught in an intense discussion with two engineers.

"_Może_ _wy_ _mówicie_ _mnie_ _gdzie_ _przydziały są_?" Ivan Kata inquired in Polish.

"_Ktoś_ _poruszony_ _nasz_ _worki_," Sarah Defabis added.

Aiden however wasn't as fluent in international languages. "I don't understand..." he managed before desperately looking around for help. "Does anyone else here speak the language these guys are speaking?"

The gurney that rolled past obscured any possible notice from the surrounding Expedition members.

"Make sure those marines don't just shove all the medical equipment into their casings," the Latina nurse gripped as they pulled the stretcher along. "I don't want to get to Pegasus and find tongue depressors lodged in the X-ray machine."

"_Qui_, but they do look good doing it," Mira Wright leered beside her, her French ancestry hinting in her voice.

"Excuse me..." both women winched their necks around to find the gangly and bewildered Zack trying to find his footing in the crowded corridor. "Hey, can you, uh, where is Level 28?"

"Is it just me or are the doctors getting younger and younger," Mira giggled.

"Aww," Carla laughed as they continued on their way, Zack scurrying to keep up with them. "First day, Wendy?"

"Mine name is Zack Addy," the boy nodded as he dodged and bounced around people to keep pace with the nurses, "but yes."

"Carla will take care of you," she cooed before casting a glance back at him trailing after them. "Oh and don't look at me when we're moving."

"Why?" Zack inquired, confused.

A moment later he ran head first into an opening door.

Stars exploded, concrete hit his behind and Zack found himself staring up into Carla's smiling face.

"That's why, Wendy!" she laughed.

"Are you okay?" another face appeared beside Carla's and for one instance, Zack wish the molecular density of the concrete below him was enough for him to just slide right under and hid his growing embarrassment. "Sorry about the door."

"It is alright, Ianto," Zack nodded as the man extended a hand and hauled him back up to stand. "No broken bones and my vision impairment is rapidly coming back."

"He always talk like this?" Carla snickered.

"What is wrong with my pronunciation?" Zack asked, wondering if the fall had damaged his speech in some way.

"This is going to be a long Expedition..."

The massive blast doors to the Gateroom slide open, just adding to the setting of mayhem.

Doctor Beckett however around a cargo pallet of medical supplies, fusing and fighting to get the packaging wrap just right so nothing would get damaged in transit.

The perturbed Lieutenant-Colonel behind him only huffed as he bounced on the balls of his feet exasperation.

"I just need to finish my work," he tried to wave the soldier away as he checked the packaging for the hundredth time, "and you're not helping by standing there."

Beside him Doctor Jennifer Keller tried to choke down a fit of laughter as she watched her department head.

"Give us ten minutes," she offered the officer a kind smile and some sympathy, "we'll have it working."

"We've got five minutes to get it going," Lieutenant-Colonel Davis groused, "or I'm leaving it."

"...each chevron represents a point of space outside our galaxy," Doctor Jackson explained as he walked passed them, "so we won't know till we lock it."

"Aye, thon wo'll only know after all the chevrons are active," Nora Kane understood, her thick Irish brogue coming through.

"Exactly," Jackson nodded as they moved on, "but even then a MALP has to be launched..."

"Everything in here has been double and triple checked," Peter Gordin complained as he walked down the embarkation ramp of the Earth Stargate. "We're cleared for takeoff. Leave it alone, Tosh!"

"Look," the young woman shouted as she waved a scanner over her parcels, "if these servers get even a speck of dust inside their casings we'll be without even a flashlight once we're on the other side."

"She said the same to me, sir," Sergeant Dean Bates murmured at the pair, arms crossed and staring at the peculiar woman.

"That's what your sidearm's for," Peter shot him a look...

* * *

"_Department heads to the control room_," the PA crackled with static. "_Repeat all Expedition department heads to the control room_."

Radek suppressed the burning sensation in his chest as he rushed up the stairs. He had been up for the last forty-hours and doubted that gallon of coffee he had downed an hour ago was helping his already rattled constitution.

"Doctor Weir," he joined the other four people assembled before the woman, though barely noticing as he tried to catch his breath, "all cargo pallets are functioning, MALP's one through five are online and all ten FRED's are good to go."

Elizabeth turned from where she was conferring with General O'Neill and the Jaffa warrior Teal'c, both towering men gave the Czech scientist the willies.

"Thank you, Radek," she nodded gratefully, "but I'm not the one you are to be reporting that too."

"What?" was the collective reaction from her five present department heads.

This was their first discovery of the change in the command structure, obviously it was recent, sudden and without warning. Given they were the leaders of their respective departments and just discovering this, the rest of the Expedition was most likely in the dark as well.

"I'm not in-charge anymore," Elizabeth explained as she handed off her tablet computer to the nearest technician.

"Your new Expedition leader," General O'Neill spelled out as he joined the group, "is just signing off on some final reports."

"Doctor Weir," Allison asked, casting an unsure look at her former commanding officer, "what is going on?"

"The IOA felt stronger leadership was required," Weir tried to hide the indignation in her voice but it still leaked through as she cast a sidelong glance at the General beside her who suddenly had become very interested in a particular spot on the ceiling, "Stargate Command agreed. I have been downgraded to second in command."

"Then who's in charge of the Expedition?" Doctor Beckett asked.

"That would be me," all turned to the uniformed officer that strolled into the control room.

Everyone was silent and in the case of Doctor Jackson, jaw dropping shocked.

"Sam!" Daniel managed in total surprise.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Carter," Davis quickly saluted.

"Actually... I have been promoted," Sam Carter have a quick bow and all of them noticed the new ranking on her lapel, "to Colonel for this mission, lady, gentlemen."

"From now on," Elizabeth accounted for them, "Colonel Carter is in charge of the Atlantis Expedition, I am your XO. Department heads report to me, I report to her. Clear?"

"Crystal," Allison nodded.

"Sure," Zelenka accepted.

"Good, now Lieutenant-Colonel Davis," Carter turned towards her subordinate who quickly stood to attention, "I want your men to establish a perimeter the moment we're through. No one is to leave the immediate area until we've secured Atlantis."

"Yes, ma'am," the man saluted.

"Doctor Beckett," she now regarded the bearded Scotsman, "we have no idea what the atmosphere is going to be like on the other-side. Have teams running consent toxicology and bacterial scans until we're sure its safe."

"Alright," he accepted.

"Doctor Zelenka," Sam regarded the Czech scientist, "Atlantis is several million-years old, her condition is unknown. Once we're in Pegasus I want the entire Engineering department running a structural integrity survey of the entire structure."

"_No jo no, zase je to na mě_," he stammered in Czech before he switched back to English, "...ah, sure."

"Ms. Blake, Daniel," Carter now called on the remaining two department heads, "you are in-charge of our civilian contingents. Keep them in order and moving until we're sure it's safe for settlement. Daniel, get your linguists translating everything in the immediate area, we won't be able to tell the difference between an Ancient doomsday weapon and a hairdryer."

"Yes, ma'am," Allison acknowledged as Daniel just gave a nod to his old friend.

"Then go get you people ready," Carter ordered and the group quickly dispersed.

Turning back to the control booth that overlooked the embarkation room, Sam joined Jack and Teal'c as they observed the Expedition members preparing below.

"We there yet?" O'Neill asked, casting her a quick glance.

"We're just waiting on Dr. McKay." she confirmed, but that was the farthest thing from her thoughts. "Jack... I just wanted to say-"

"Tell me when you get back," he stopped her before she could say anything else, turning back to stare out the glass again. "Okay Sam?

"Sure..."

Feeling as the moment had become uncomfortable tense, Teal'c cleared his throat to draw attention away from the obvious animosity rising between the two.

"On the day I left Chulak for the first time," the Jaffa warrior stated in his deep baritone voice, "Master Bra'tac said to me, _'Draw from your past, but do not let your past draw from you'_.

"That's good advice," Sam smiled towards her long-time friend and team member. Her eyes however filled with sorrow, slowly turning back to Jack who continued to stare out through the window. "Still, I know I'm gonna miss this place... and all of you."

"I would have been offended had you felt otherwise," Teal'c gave a short and respectful bow. "But you will have Daniel Jackson to keep you in good company."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But seven-years is a long time."

"It has been seven-years well spent," he nodded. "We have defeated numerous enemies, achieved great triumphs and overcome many threats."

"It was never dull," Jack mumbled.

"We have accomplished much here," Teal'c stated "but now it is Atlantis that is in need of you."

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "Part of me's looking forward to going, but there's part of me that thinks that maybe it's too soon, that I'm leaving my work here unfinished."

"Your work will continue, only in a different place," he rationalized. "You have been bestowed an incredible honor, Colonel Carter, and I believe you should embrace it. And know this. though we may not be leaving with you, SG-1 will never be far away."

"Tha... thanks," her voice almost broke but she managed to regain her composure with a huff. "So I can expect you guys to come and visit some time?"

"Undomesticated equines could not keep me away," Sam laughed at the Jaffa's attempt at Earth humor.

She didn't know why but suddenly the urge overcame her and her arms wrapped around the warrior's shoulders and she drew him close. His barrel chest met her head, for a moment it was only this moment and nothing else mattered.

"All right," Sam sighed as she drew back, trying to dab her eyes. "Time to go... goodbye Jack."

"Goodbye, Colonel..."

* * *

The wires slide into place, each piece of fiber optic cable glowed bright yellow as the tiny flow of energy coursed through the bonds.

"Connections are in place," Master Sergeant Sylvester Siler groaned as he pulled himself out from underneath the power adapter module, "test programs are all in the green. Should work now."

"Okay, Sergeant give it a try," McKay accepted as he typed away on the nearby laptop. "ZPM should light up when it senses the conductive connection to the Gate."

Nodding Siler pulled himself back to stand behind the scientist and waited.

Lines of coding spiraled across the computer screen, each one holding countless numbers and calculations as the diagram of a floating Stargate hung in the corner.

Atop the adapter sat the inert ZPM.

A Zero Point Module was the most powerful energy source known in the universe, drawing energy from the pocket of compressed subspace and the tiny subatomic vacuoles contained inside of it. If estimates were true, a single ZPM could provide enough power to run every piece of hardware on the East Coast for a million years before it could be finally depleted.

But making an interstellar trip to another galaxy was going to accelerate that even faster.

"Here we go," Rodney mumbled, clicking the final keystroke on his station.

The ZPM surged to life, energy growing bright inside its yellow and red crystals as the tiny cylinder began to hum.

"Oh yeah," McKay smirked.

* * *

"Could I have everyone's attention please!" the entire embarkation room went quiet as Colonel Carter hiked the length of the ramp towards the Earth Stargate. "Alright, here we go."

Scientists, soldiers, engineers and doctors gathered around the bottom of the ramp, all staring up at her, looking to her to inform and lead them.

She quelled the unsettled feeling rising in her throat and instead replaced it with strong words.

"We are about to make a connection," her voice reverberated through the former nuclear missile silo. All other sound had ended as everyone gave her their utter attention. "We have been unable to predict exactly how much power this is going to take and we may only get the one chance to attempt this. So if we are able to achieve a stable wormhole, we're not going to risk shutting the gate down. We'll send in a MALP, check for viability and go. Everything at once."

Up in the control booth Daniel, Teal'c and Jack watched her address her flock, both remembering all those years ago when she was merely a stammering captain had now become a capable colonel.

"Everyone here volunteered for this mission," Carter kept her face cold and impassive even if she was bouncing with energy and authority on the inside. "One-hundred and fifty-four people representing over thirty countries. You are the world's best and brightest in your respective fields and from the mission we are about to embark on... you are also the bravest. While I hope we return one day having extended the frontier of human knowledge… we may never be able to return home. I'd like to offer you all one last chance to withdraw your participation."

No one moved, no one spoke.

A hundred fifty eyes just stared right back at her waiting for her to continue.

She couldn't help the smile that flashed across her face. Turning up towards the control booth she made her final declaration.

"Begin the dialing sequence...:

* * *

Final checks began, reports were signed off on and backpacks were hoisted from the ground.

At the forefront, Major Sheppard slide another ration pack into his equipment vest, grimacing at the thought of having to eat one of those bland granola bars the Army loved to call a balanced meal.

His stomach gave a lurch at the thought that they may have to live off of such things for the next year. Roughing it did have its downfalls. Hopefully once they were at Atlantis, they could find the nearest place to grab a burger.

"Make sure they keep the ultrasound machine with cargo container three," a familiar voice made him suddenly stiffen in place. "It's already been misplaced twice."

He whirled around and found a memorable red head bobbing up and down inside a backpack a short distance away.

"Yes, Doctor Sheppard," the technician nodded as she scurried away but John quickly filled her position.

"Addison!" he stammered. "Wha...w...what are you doing here?!"

The woman looked up and immediately a knowing smile spread over her.

"Well it's always nice to see a familiar face," she laughed, rising to give him a hearty hug before pulling back. "How have you been, John?"

"How'd you get onto this mission?" he completely side stepped the question for his more pressing concerns.

"They needed an OB/GYN surgeon," Addison shrugged, "I had nothing better going on. Seemed like a good enough reason to leave the Milky Way."

John paused, hesitating a moment before asking the next pressing concern in his mind. "So does Derek know you're here?"

"Well he was a bit pissed," she grinned, "when I saw him at the briefing but he'll come around."

"Derek's here!" John couldn't hide his surprise.

"John, you have to talk to your brother someday," Addison tried to poke him in the right direction, though the glare he shot her nearly caused her to back down. "Being sent to another galaxy is definitely one of those reasons to reopen old bridges."

"And he was the one who burned that bridge," the Major crossed his arms and regarded her with contempt, "_after_ he took a swing at me."

"He wasn't in the best mood at the time," she tried to defend the man but John wasn't have anything of it from the fact he refused to make eye-contact with her. "After your father died, he wasn't too keen to hear about your joining the military. He needs his brother, especially if any of us are going to make it on this-"

"Addison," both turned to regard the dark-haired man approaching them from behind. "Doctor Beckett wants to brief us before... John!"

"Derek," the reunited brother tried to offer a smile. "You look-"

"Addison," Derek interrupted him as he turned to leave. "Beckett needs us."

"Give him time," his sister-in-law gave him a pat on the shoulder, "see you on the other side, John."

With that she was gone, heading off into the crowded corridor and even with her fiery red hair she was quickly lost in the crowd.

He watched for her, a bit dumbfounded, a bit lost and a bit perturbed that old wounds had been reopened.

"Let me make myself clear, Major," Sheppard suddenly found Lieutenant-Colonel Davis standing beside him. "You are not here by my choice."

"Sure you'll warm up to me once you get to know me," John smiled, trying to hide the unnerve feeling his previous conversation had left him with, though the man's face remained stoic to him, "sir."

"As long as you remember who's giving the orders," Davis stated dangerously.

"That would be Colonel Carter, right?" he couldn't help himself, or the knowing smirk that he gave the officer... and his superior. This was going to be a long Expedition.

"Since you have a special _gift_ for getting in trouble," Paul gave the man a poignant glare, "I'm partnering you with someone who's made a career of it. Major Sheppard meet Agent Carmen Cortez of the UN's Office of Strategic Services."

From behind the Lieutenant-Colonel a girl stepped into view.

And he meant girl.

She was barely five foot five, wavy black hair hanging over her shoulders to match the black-ops uniform she wore. Even for her small stature, she was armed to the teeth. Sheppard had to wonder if the semi-automatic rifle strapped to her back or the two holsters on her hips were going to tip her backwards at any moment.

"You're just a kid!" John shouted.

"I am not," even if she was armed, she still held herself like a soiled teenager being dressed down by her parents. "I turned seventeen last month!"

"Carmen Cortez," Davis explained, a definitive smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "is by far one of the top international spies in the world. She is only matched by her mother Ingrid Cortez of M16 and her father Gregorio Cortez of the Spanish National Intelligence Center. She's been a member of the OSS since she was 14-years old and attained the position of their top espionage agent and hacker barely a year later. She's done missions in Afghanistan, North Korea and even six-months behind enemy lines in Iran."

"And I thought the cut off age for this Expedition was eighteen?" John stared at her with mild annoyance.

"They let you on this mission after what you did in Afghanistan," she flashed him a lavish grin at the glare he shot her. "World-class hacker at fifteen remember? It's going to be a pleasure to work with you."

"Peachy," John grumbled. "Just peachy."

* * *

"_Chevron four encoded_," Walter Harrimen announced, the grounding roll of the Stargate before him roaring through the entire facility.

"Nice speech," Jack complimented as Sam bounded up the steps to join the group gathered in control booth.

"Thank you," Sam gave him a tight lipped smile.

"_Chevron five encoded_," Walter yelled.

From behind them Doctor McKay rushed up, inserting himself between Elizabeth and Teal'c, casting the towering Jaffa a wilted look before turning back to the Stargate.

"_Chevron six encoded_!" Harrimen bellowed.

"This is it," Weir was bubbling with excitement. Stealing a look at the Rodney standing almost dumbfounded beside her. "Doctor McKay... calm down. How embarrassing?"

"_Chevron seven encoded_," the cry kept them all on their toes, anticipation rising in the air across the entire floor below.

"I've never been so excited in my entire life," McKay whispered under his breath.

Everyone held their breath...

"_Chevron eight is locked_!" the howl went across the room.

The rolling inner ring of the Stargate halted, energy coursed forward, the unstable vortex bursting forth and then being ripped back. The mighty whoosh they had all become so accustomed to over the years exploded into a rippling puddle of water like energy, shifting and churning like a pebble had just been tossed into a calm pond.

Everything was silent... and then everyone erupted into cheers and applause.

"Doctor Weir," Carter turned to her second in command, "would you like to do the honors?"

A twinkle sparked in Elizabeth's eyes before she gave her superior a mouthed '_Thank you_'.

Turning back to the open Stargate, Elizabeth gave the first command of the Expedition. "Send the MALP."

The Mobile Analytic Laboratory Probe or MALP began to move up the ramp, its three pairs of heavy-traction wheels pulling the rhombus shaped craft up and towards the waiting Gate.

It hesitated at the event-horizon barrier, holding just long enough to orient itself before thrusting itself into the vortex. The moment its two pylon backside was through the coursing energy... it was launched three-million light-years away.

A second later Walter was reporting the feedback.

"We have MALP telemetry incoming," he announced as his screen flashed several graphs and numerous ones and zeroes. "Switching to zero flux."

"What is it we're looking at?" Carter pressed.

"Radar indicates a large room," McKay leaned over Harrimen's shoulder to get a better view of the information the MALP was feeding them.

"It's structurally intact?" Jackson was surprised for the umpteenth time today.

"Sensors state there's oxygen, no measurable toxins. We have viable life-support," Rodney confirmed as he pulled back. "Looks like we're not getting out of this."

"Colonel Carter," General O'Neill turned to the blond officer by his side, "you have a go."

"Thank you..." she paused before adding, "sir."

* * *

"Let's go people," Lieutenant-Colonel Davis pulled his all-purpose cap on and turned towards the massive event-horizon of the Earth Stargate, "we don't know how much time we've got. Security teams Alpha and Beta you're up first. All other personnel will follow on our signal, once on the other side keep moving. Clear the Disembarkation area. On my lead-"

"Hold on Lieutenant-Colonel," Carter entered the embarkation room, hauling a pack onto her back as Weir towed behind her. "We go through together."

"You're clear, Colonel," Elizabeth confirmed as she tugged one final strap into place.

"Yes, ma'am," Paul acknowledged as he began to head towards the awaiting Gate.

"Doctor Weir," Sam issued her last orders before heading out, "the moment we send confirmation, begin sending the Expedition members through."

"Understood," the other woman nodded before stepping back to give the first team, all soldiers under command of Lieutenant-Colonel Davis, through.

Sam walked up the length of the ramp, just like she had done more than a hundred times before during her seven-years with the Stargate Program. It should have felt familiar and repetitive... but the unknown still left a deep pit in her stomach.

Turning back, she caste a glance back at the control booth, watching a Teal'c gave her a slow bow, Daniel scrambled to rattle off some final notes to a technician and Jack... just stare at her with blank eyes.

Something told her to stay, to just leave everything she had achieved and just...

She walked through the Stargate and away from those thoughts.

* * *

"I can't believe your letting me go, Jack," Daniel could barely contain the excitement that had him dancing about but he managed to keep his good bye as short as needed.

"If I didn't," Jack sneered, "I'd never hear the end of it."

"It's..." Jackson hesitated, the words catching in his throat before finally, "well it's been a ride these last few years."

"Indeed," Teal'c nodded.

"Consider it a present for all your hard-work," O'Neill grinned. "The man who unlocks the Stargate now unlocks Atlantis."

"Be well, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c gave him a final, mighty bow.

"See you," Daniel smiled, "on the other side ..."

"All clear," Davis' voice crackled over the loudspeakers in the control booth. "Looks good."

"Expedition team," General O'Neill tapped the microphone in front of him. "Move out."

"Second wave!" Doctor Weir shouted from her position beside the Stargate. "Doctor Kimball Kusanagi, Specialist Carmen Cortez, Engineer Logan Williams, Doctor Jamar Lambert and Major John Sheppard to the front. Prepare to jump to Pegasus..."


	5. Chapter Five – Cowardly Bishop

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Five – Cowardly Bishop

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback**: Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

There was an explosion light, the universe around him seemed to pull and warp... before he was standing in Atlantis.

The air was cold, tasting stale to his tongue as he drew a long breath and tried to steady himself. Even if being shot several million light-years across the universe in barely a microsecond felt like nothing, the whole realization he was really in the Lost City of Atlantis was almost too much to comprehend.

"You coming, Major?" he whirled around to see Colonel Carter shooting him a whirly smile before she continued to move into the shadows.

Around him the members of the Expedition began to spread out into the cavernous room, taking in every arch, every pillar, shining lights into every corner to try and send the darkness into retreat.

"Teams one and two secure the immediate area," Lieutenant-Colonel Davis ordered, as he waved his rifle mounted flashlight over the room. "Maintain consent radio contact until advised otherwise."

He glanced back, staring at the massive Stargate that dominated the only visible wall in the room. It was different then the Earth Stargate, cleaner, smoother, the chevrons glowed bright as the wash of energy from the event-horizon gave the only source illumination in the structure.

"It's massive," Carter whispered, shining her light up into shadows overhead. Even if the device had a reach of several meters, it still dissolved into nothing before it even gave her a hint at where the ceiling began.

"Architecture appears to be identical to that of the Antarctic Outpost," Doctor Zelanka shouted from the far side of the embarkation room. "Tato bydliště is ohromný!"

"You can say that again," Sheppard mumbled as they continued on into the immense structure.

* * *

"Fifth Wave!" Doctor Weir announced at the foot of the Gate ramp. "Doctor Abby Maitland, Lieutenant Hagal Bashevis, Analyst Faith Foreman, Doctor Daniel Jackson, Nurse Molly Barton and Specialist Makoto Yoshida. You are clear to go! Sixth Wave form up."

Daniel hauled his backpack on, wondering for the billionth time had he left the proper notes for his replacement at the SGC. The girl was young, she needed a good head start if there was even a chance she'd survive under Jack's tenure. He almost had the urge to go back and check... almost.

He had dreamed of this day for weeks, long since he had first learned of the Lost City had he spent many a sleepless night thinking of what this moment was going to be like.

"Doctor Brennan," the young woman spun on her boot heels to meet his gaze with her usual detached but inquisitive eyes. He was about to give her an order when he noticed she was wearing a pair of goggles and a green wet weather cap. He tried to hold in his laughter but still managed to speak. "Ahhh... they say the interior of the structure is dark. What are you doing with the eye wear and hat?"

"A precaution," she nodded, "the unstable vortex is comprised of heavy amounts of ionized plasma and traces of antimatter in order to produce the subspace wormhole, which could be damaging to unprotected optical nerves... and what's wrong with my hat?"

He sighed, "Nothing. Form your team up, forensics is coming up soon."

"Yes, Doctor Jackson," the anthropologist nodded. "See you in Atlantis."

The anthropologist gave her a short bow and then began to rise the ramp to the Stargate. Temperance turned back to her team, they had managed to find an open area beside the alien device and the dozens of cargo containers that we slowly being moved into position.

Her team, the four people that she was now in charge of and constituted the new Pegasus Project Forensic team. Zack was hovering between the two men, handing out extra ration packs as the only other female in the group as Shawn seemed to be getting fidgeted.

He was sweating, she almost didn't notice it but the eyes shooting back and forth, the perspiration beading on his forehead and his entire stance put him in a position where he was about to jump out of skin at any moment.

"Is anything wrong, Mr. Spencer?" she asked, a tiny hint of a grin in her voice as she made sure to put her eyes on the Stargate and not on the terrified man beside her.

"No... no... NO!" he stammered one time too many. "I mean, its not like a fear of flying or a fear of the unknown. It's just I don't like having my molecules sliced, diced and vaporized."

"Statistically speaking there has been no case of someone dying _in transit_ between Stargates," Temperance offered. "Literally speaking since it is near instantaneous, you'd either have to be dead before you passed the event horizon or upon arrival."

"Very helpful, Doctor Brennan," Shawn sarcastically thanked. "I'm going to... going... I'm just going to stand over here and not stare at the big ring thing."

He scurried away, trying to put as much distance between him and the Stargate. But he was part of the next team through the gate, he couldn't get far.

"Seventh Wave!" Doctor Weir's voice almost made Shawn jump but he managed to reign in his nerves. "Major Natasha Tolinev, Doctor Lance Sweets, Doctor Kate Heightmeyer, Captain Lawrence Connor, Doctor Rosyln Greta and Lieutenant Armando Sheridan. Go! Eighth Wave form up!"

Shawn never cast a glance back to see the three women and three men that trudged up the ramp, he instead tried to focus on the people around him... more specifically the brunette strapping something to her hip.

She had short hair, an intense sour look but her face was beautiful.

All that fear in his chest began to dissolve, especially as he stared at her's.

"Why hello," he smirked as he tried to slide in beside her.

"I don't have time to talk," the response was immediate, clear and without even giving him a second glance.

"But you haven't heard what I'm going to say," Shawn tried to argue with suave.

She turned to regard him as she slapped the handgun into the holster on her hip, her eyebrows rose as if to entice him to try to press her further.

"Now, we've already talked more than I wanted to," she returned his previous smirk.

"Sara," the man beside Doctor Addy rose to catch her attention, his southern accent almost indiscernible but still enough to give his voice a twang. "Time to get moving."

"Sure, Nick," Sara nodded to her companion. "Better get ready, Mr. Spencer."

And then she was strutting away.

"Tenth Wave!" Weir called out. "Doctor Temperance Brennan, Doctor Zach Addy, Specialist Nick Stokes, Specialist Greg Sanders, Specialist Sara Sidle, Specialist Shawn Spencer. Forensic team you are clear to go..."

* * *

The halls were eerily quieted, dark and without any hint of life.

Sergeant Hung Yamaha slide along the hallway, keeping his rifle up and ready for anything that could cross his path. He rolled his P90 submachine gun through the air in front of him, scanning every corner for something that could jump out of him. The flashlight on the top of the weapon only helped to increasing the menacing appearance every shadow held, trying to press them back yet just strengthen the darkness.

A month ago he was doing recon with _Seibu Hōmen Futsū-ka Rentai_, the Western Army Infantry Regiment and one of the top special units for those American members of the Expedition who always shot him strange looks when he slipped into his native Japanese.

His partner slipped in beside him, their own weapon adding more light to the already despairing corridor.

"This place is just creepy," Captain Jeanette Mccullough mumbled beside him, the Australian medic had been unnerved since they had began to delve deeper into Atlantis.

She was right.

As a member of the Japanese Self-Defense Force he had been trained to go days without any friendly contact, behind enemy lines with just his training to keep him alive. But for some reason this entire place just screamed wrong.

"No one's been here for years," Hung wondered out loud, "it's as if the _Yūrei_ are restless."

"The what?" Jeanette shot him a look.

"Ghosts," he quickly explained... until he realized he was acting like a child and not a Sergeant.

They were almost to the end of the hallway when suddenly the wall beside them jolted. Both soldiers swiftly raised their rifles, training and years of experience kicked in as both crouched and brought their shoulders back waiting to open fire.

The wall parted, exposing the small room beyond it.

Two clean, white couches, a small desk and a tiny light but nothing beyond that sat inside, as if waiting for its occupants to come home after a long day, ready to longue out or relax.

"Okay, now this is just weird," Jeanette mumbled. "Let's just do our sweep and get back to the Gate room."

"Yeah," he nodded as they started to push on.

But that nagging feeling something wasn't right still continued to permeate his soul.

* * *

"_Team One reporting all clear_," the radio crackled in Davis' ear as he continued through the Gate room. A beat later another voice filled the absence of the first. "_Team Two reporting clear, establishing check-points now_."

"Everyone else find an open space and park it until instructed otherwise," the Lieutenant-Colonel shouted to the civilian scientists and engineers massing behind him in the massive room.

Turning back he moved toward a set of steps that dominated the room opposite the Gate, seemingly made of some kind of polished, gold granite. The moment he stepped on the surface the ground below him lit up, dozens of tiny mood like lights underneath the steps glowed to life suddenly.

Beside him Sergeant Bates shot him a look as the nearby wall he was standing by suddenly flashed with warm a golden beam of energy.

"Who's doing that?" Carter joined him, staring as different portions of the Gate room gradually came to alive. Small stations activated, columns of light powered up and several tiny tubes began to flash in rhythmic pulsation as energy was pumped into them.

An idea cropped in his mind and though he didn't want to think of it he had to ask.

He tapped his radio. "Security teams any alien contact?"

"_Negative, sir_," the voice of Lieutenant Dylan Arden leading Team One echoed in his ear.

"_Team four_," Sergeant Boyan Stackhouse announced a second after. "_Negative._"

Major Sheppard stepped past him, moving on up the steps and to the first landing. While just mere humans they only caused a few lights and gizmos to activate but when Major Sheppard rose onto the platform, everything around him flared.

Consoles came alive; several holographic screens flashed online and out from him every inch of the complex seems to burst at the seams with energy.

"The lights are coming on by themselves," he murmured loud enough for Davis to overhear, "the city must be reacting to our presence."

"This place is remarkably well preserved," Jackson added. "Everything was probably set to automatic when the Ancients abandoned the city."

"_This is Stargate Command_," everyone's radio chirped, causing them all to turn rippling Stargate. "_Doctor Weir is leading the final group through now_."

Barely a split second after the last declaration the last seven people were through the Gate, quickly pushing themselves into the already massive crowd that found themselves milling around the device. Last among was Doctor Weir, casting a glance backwards into the pool of concentrated subspace that she had just stepped through.

With only a final, and unnoticed worried look back, she stepped towards her commanding officer.

"Everyone present and account for ma'am," she handed over the tablet computer for final confirmation before she turned back. "We're all clear."

"Thank you," she gave her an XO a nod before tapping her headset. "General O'Neill, Colonel Carter. Atlantis base, transmitting final report from the Pegasus Galaxy. You may cut power to the gate."

An instant later the Gate deactivated without a confirmation... but not before a small object rolled free of the event horizon.

Reaching down Weir snatched the object, being the closest she easily understood what it was for but offered it to Sam with a smile.

It was a bottle of champagne with a tiny note attached.

Pulling it free she looked at what her former commanding officer had scribbled, most likely as an afterthought.

'_Bon Voyage. Jack_.'

* * *

Jeanette took the stairs down two at a time, trying to speed this search up by just a few seconds more. Wandering around alone in the dark inside an abandoned alien complex gave her nerves a trip.

Behind her Hung rushed to follow, the Asian man keeping pace as they tried to keep pace with each other. Their breathing was the only thing keeping them company, the only sound beyond the occasional hum of a power station or door sliding open to their presence.

"This place is huge," her comrade whistled, glancing over the railing to try and see the bottom of the stairway shaft. "This has to go down a few hundred meters."

"And we've already gone through three entire levels," Jeanette huffed.

She shouldn't be complaining. Two tours in Iraq, peacekeeping operations in East Timor, hell she was a combat medic who spent her work hours dealing with the worse parts of any battle, cleaning up the aftermath. She had been through far worse.

Why was it something just felt wrong?

They were nearly to the bottom when something caught Jeanette's eyes.

For a moment she nearly played it off as another door or system responding to their presence or a play of shadows waning on their nerves but something told her otherwise.

"Hey," she waved Hung over in her direction before he had a chance to continue on down the stairs. "What's over that way?"

"One more level won't hurt?" he sarcastically sent her a smirk.

"Just move it," she didn't even bother to see if he was following.

It was a tiny little alcove in the corridor off the stairwell, probably somewhere for the city's former denizens to sit and enjoy themselves in this nearly endless maze.

"Looks like a window," Hung commented as he approached the glass barrier.

"Really, Sherlock," Jeanette laughed as they crossed the last meter to the view portal. "Is it that kind of brilliance that got... oh, my God."

"We better call Lieutenant-Colonel Davis..."

* * *

Sam slung her pack into the corner of the room, glancing around at the small desk and several selves that filled the largely bare room. Obviously whoever had used it originally was of some importance, it was merely across a short gangway from the main control area of the Atlantis Gate room, with two massive windows that gave a prefect bird's eye view of the operation's floor.

"Home sweet, home," she mumbled, noticing the thick layer of dust that covered nearly everything along with several loose sheets of plastic probably intended to provide some little protection to the furniture.

Behind her Elizabeth entered, having deposited her pack somewhere else, smiling as she leaned against the door frame.

"Can't believe we actually made it," she commented as she took a glance around the room.

"You can say that again," Sam smiled as she stalked the distance around her new place of command. "A lot better than my first time through the Gate. Abydos was hot, sandy and about a million years behind this place in technology."

"_Colonel Carter_," Sam radio crackled for the thousandth time in only an hour, this time it was Doctor Marco Pacella bubbling with excitement, "_you have to see_ _this_!"

She sighed and Elizabeth shot her a smile. Everyone and their mother were racing around this complex like a kid in a candy store. She had engineers scouring every inch of the infrastructure, chemists testing the atmosphere and the forensic anthropology team was nearly jumping off the walls analyzing every speck of dust they could find.

Hell most of the biology department had screamed like little girls when they found some kind of fungus growing on a door two levels up.

"I have a lot of things to see," Sam said into her microphone. "Just be careful... and don't touch anything!"

"Can't blame them for being excited," Elizabeth smiled, whipping a layer of dust off the nearby couch before laying back onto the cushions. "This is the Lost City of the Ancients."

"Listen," Sam rounded on her, "I know you don't like me, you think I usurped your position here."

"The thought has crossed my mind," Weir entertained the idea. "The week before we're supposed to leave I'm informed after months of planning and promises that I am no longer in charge. Can't say my ego wasn't hurt a bit."

"Well you can forget that," Sam shook her head as she sat down on the chair behind the desk, the object creaked under her weight after so many years of inactivity. "I respect you, I know how hard you worked. But you are a civilian."

"And the military knows better?" Elizabeth asked, the sarcasm just dripping.

"You're a brilliant woman," the Colonel shrugged as she leaned onto the desk. "The work you have done, the bridges you've built, laid the groundwork for not only some of the largest international treaties but interstellar ones as well. Daniel cited some of your work when he was drafting the Tokra-Earth Alliance. When you were appointed to the SGC I paged through some of your work. Heavy stuff but some of the finest I've ever seen."

"Thank you," Weir smiled, taking the compliment as an attempt to butter her up, make her more receptive. It was a worthless ploy, she was an experienced diplomat but the tactic held enough merit to say Carter wasn't a stupid woman. "And I read about your tenure at the SGC. Dozens of commendations, the discovery of more alien technologies then I could count and fought in more battles then most veterans see in a single war. But why they chose you is beyond me."

"The IOA was all for you, even General O'Neill was onboard," Sam explained. "But after the incident with the Replicators escaping from the Asgard, they became concerned with sending over a hundred people beyond the galaxy."

"I think I proven I could handle myself," the doctor was almost incredulous. She had been faced with two major alien superpowers that could have easily wiped Earth out without a second thought... scratch that, had tried to and failed magnificently. And that was all within her first days in command of the SGC.

"You did," Carter nodded. "But with the increasing threats from the System Lords and now with the Replicators escaping from the Asgard galaxy, they began to worry that if they sent this Expedition, would we find another enemy lurking for us. You weren't removed because you were unqualified or unprepared and not for any political backstabbing but because they were afraid that if they activated that Gate, we'd just ended up flying headfirst into another war."

"So they put you in charge," Elizabeth rationalized, "because I'd get us involved in the next intergalactic conflict?"

"Maybe not intentionally," Sam sighed, "and you near pacifist stance on violence is one of the reasons the IOA found it so hard to replace you as Expedition commander. Yet for the same reason they thought having you in charge could do more harm then good. Without reinforcement like we had at the SGC against the Goa'uld your chances of survival... well I saw the numbers and against an establish enemy even the size and technological level of say Switzerland, you don't want to know how quickly you'd start losing people."

"You actually think I'd run headlong into a fight," the anger rose in Weir's voice at what Sam was trying to imply, "get everyone killed. We came out here to explore, not to fight a war. Just because General O'Neill feels your-"

"General O'Neill never approved my transfer," Sam suddenly averted her eyes, becoming suddenly interested in a patch of dust on the desktop. "In fact he fought it, going as far as threatening to resign if I was removed from SG-1. Yet when the leaders of five major superpowers overrule you, who could argue?"

Elizabeth knew Sam was a good person, a tested veteran of the Stargate program and a brilliant scientists. The fact was she had held such hopes and dreams to be the leader of this Expedition, being the next great explorer of the era. That had quickly dissolved when the IOA booted her for someone better.

"We're going to be stuck her a long time," Elizabeth mumbled after a moment's thought. "I was made your second in command and I intend to do that to the full extent of my ability. We don't have to like each other but we do have to work together."

"Then as we setup operations here," Sam rose to move around the desk. "I'm going to need someone to lead exploration teams both in Atlantis... and off-world. That includes diplomacy, trade talks and making first contact with an entirely new galaxy of unknown civilizations. You think you're up for that?"

"I think," Elizabeth beamed, but quickly recomposed herself. "I can manage that."

"Colonel, Doctor," both women turned as Major Sheppard entered the office, quickly glance at the two and wondering what was going on between them before he moved on, "if I'm not interrupting you Doctor McKay is '_requesting_' you in the operations center."

"After you, Doctor Weir," Sam gestured and the pair easily followed the officer out and into the operations center.

Just as they entered the hub of the Atlantis Stargate command center several, stepping off the gangway from Sam's office, several stations came alive... just as Major Sheppard coasted by them.

"I didn't touch anything," he said as he continued on, staring down as several screens flashed readouts and information in scrolling Ancient.

"Relax Major," Elizabeth grinned, sliding a hand over the smooth surface of the computer stations, "it's like the entire complex is sensing our presence and coming to life."

"From the amount of activity this place is putting out," Jackson noted as he poured over one of the nearest holo-screens, "compared to the Outpost on Earth, this place is certainly more advanced. The Ancients had more then enough to upgrade over the years."

"This has got to be the control room," Doctor McKay shouted as he came around to join them at the foremost stations. He took special notice of one device in particular, a hexagon shape with numerous tiny triangles over its surface. "This is obviously their version of a DHD."

"Oh, obviously," John mocked, though the scientist barely paid him any attention.

"This area could be power control systems," the man continued on, pointing at several different stations, "life support, operations... possibly a computer interface ...

"Hey, hey," Elizabeth cautioned him, "why don't you find out?"

"Right," he reeled himself back in. "We'll perform diagnostics before doing anything.

"_Colonel Carter_," Toshiko's voice broke through the static on her radio. "_Can you come down and meet me please. Lieutenant-Colonel Davis and I are three levels down from you. There is something you really have to see._"

"Right away..."

* * *

"Move the cargo crate over there," Carson ordered as he came through the main arch of the room, casting his eyes across its bare contents and its soft glowing lights.

It was the largest room they had so far come across next to the Gate room itself and with its prefect distance from the operations center to provide assistance without being involved in any direct firefight, Doctor Beckett had declared it Atlantis' new infirmary.

Whatever its purpose was before, it now had a new use as his place of healing.

"Doctor Weir… um…." Doctor Keller stumbled over her words as she tried and failed to convey her message, "said the last of the equipment... err... will be delivered by the morning."

"Are you alright, Doctor Keller?" Beckett could only wonder what had rattled the woman so much.

"I'm just… ah little nervous," she admitted after a breath. "I mean to say I've never been in another galaxy… even through the Stargate…"

"Aye, you and me both," Carson offered her a smile, knowing full well the unnerving rattle something like a few million light-years could do to someone. "Now the blokes upstairs are being stingy about our supplies. How about we try and see if we can make a Lieutenant cry?"

The grin was enough to make Beckett melt, seeing the woman suddenly uncoil with shear relief was enough to do that same for him.

Moving on down the hall they were passed by Doctor Bailey and the four women trailing behind her as she delivered her orders during their approach to the new infirmary.

"I want everyone focused, ladies," she shouted, waving a clipboard in the air as she dictated her point. "Charge Nurse Espinosa will hand out round assignments but until we are actually needed you all will be helping the boys in uniform. I know this is a '_burden'_ but remember anything in this place could be a deadly, deadly weapon or the new cure for cancer."

"Doctor Bailey?" Ernestine Blackburn raised her hand from the back of the gaggle. "Can we volunteer for one of the exploration teams?"

"She has a crush on Doctor Gonzalez," Mira giggled beside her, trying to throw a hand over her mouth in mock shock of her declaration, "the hot astrophysicist from Spain. Oh, did you see him this morning-"

"Oi, I know!" Molly Barton laughed beside her, slapping her companion playfully. "But gimme that Doctor Sarin. I hear from a Carol Broker in cryptography that when he puts on a wet suit you can-"

"_LADIES_!" they all went silent as all eyes turned towards Miranda, a seething but calculated stare penetrating them all. "You are the top healthcare professionals in Atlantis next to the doctors of this Expedition themselves. You are here to treat the ill, the injured and ensure their recovery so they can thank your sorry, gossiping, sex crazed behinds later. You will not join the exploration parties in this facility, you will go up to the Gate room and you will haul boxes back down here and be damn grateful. Now get!"

All three women dispersed in the wave of anger, leaving only a glaring Doctor Bailey and a chuckling Carla in their wake.

"Think you were a bit harsh?" the nurse inquired, un-phased and not the least unnerved as the female surgeon shot her a black look. "Not going to work on me."

"Fine," Miranda sighed. "Nurses are like high school teenagers fighting over the single popular boy. They'll bicker, they'll fight, their work will suffer and in the end it will be the patients that will get hurt or worse. They need someone to hate, to unify them, and I just gave it to them."

"Did anyone tell you you're not just a brilliant surgeon," Carla snickered, walking away to join her fellow nurses upstairs.

"You could stand to do so more often," she called after the woman. She shot her a wave and Miranda turned back to the infirmary. One dark haired surgeon caught her attention however. "Sheppard! Doctor Beckett wants to see you by the end of the day."

"What for?" the neurosurgeon asked from behind the diagnostic machine he was setting up.

"Do I look psychic to you?" Bailey howled as she also made her exit. "He is the chief. He asked. You go!"

"What you do to piss her off?" Addison laughed from across the room, behind a table where she slide one test tube after another into their awaiting racks. "Certainly didn't flirt with her."

The blazing glare he shot her was enough to make even God think twice.

"You really are Satan," Derek hissed, "you realize that right? If Satan were to take physical form he'd be you, everywhere all the time."

"I am so not Satan!" the red head was near resentful at his insult.

"How come you haven't got on your broomstick then?" Derek shot back without hesitation.

"We are in another galaxy," Addison leaned over her work table, a superior tone in her voice as she stated the obvious for him to understand in total simplicity. "What are you not getting? Stop being petty and maybe you'll understand."

"When you stop being an adulterous bitch!" he shouted.

"You know you are going forgive me eventually, right?" Addison waved him off like he was a mere child acting out. "I mean you can't just … I mean there was a time when you thought of me as your best friend."

"There was a time I thought you were the love of my life," finally fed up with this entire conversation, snatched his pack off the ground and stomped clear of the infirmary before turning back to deliver on final rebuttal. "Things change."

* * *

The crack and then he let the glow stick go. It plummeted, falling several stories in barely a second as it slowly dwindled from a long rod almost a foot-long into a tiny speck in their collective vision.

"How far down does that thing go?" Weir wondered out loud, watching at the fluorescent green stick continued to bounce and spiral down the length of the stairwell.

Finally a distant pop and the now insignificant source of light struck bottom, several hundred meters below.

"Colonel Carter!" all three looked up as Davis waved at them from down the hall.

They quickly tore themselves away from the show and moved on, the Lieutenant-Colonel moving forward to meet them.

"Our search teams have only been able to secure a fraction of this place," the man explained as they moved onward. "It's absolutely huge."

"So it might really be the city of Atlantis?" Weir asked as they moved down the corridor and towards where the young Doctor Sato stood.

"Everything we've so far found," she announced as they arrived, "confirms it as such... though it is far larger than any of the records at the Antarctica Outpost implied."

"I sent a team to try and find the bottom of this tower," Paul explained. "That was over twenty-minutes ago and they still say they can't see bottom."

"According to the diagrams we found in the control center," Toshiko offered, "it could be over 800-meters tall. On Earth the tallest skyscraper is International Commerce Center in Hong Kong and that is only half as tall as this structure. The Burj Dubai in the United Arab Emirates could match this in height and they haven't even broken ground on that yet!"

"Just say, that's a good bet," Paul grinned at the woman beside him. "If you'd like to see for yourself!"

"Oh my god," was all they could muster.

Outside the window was ocean, up to where the sky should have been was just the sparkling waves and the hint of a sun in the sky. A school of fish swan passed, reminiscent of seabird back on Earth. But from where they were it was just water as far as the eye could see.

Expanding downward Atlantis speed outward, three long arms reaching across the seabed and dozens of geometric towers rising up. None matched that of where they stood yet from the sheer size of this building those below were larger than anything humanity had raised.

"We're under water," Carter did state the obvious but given the fact they were standing in an entire city under the ocean it just had to be said.

Sheppard almost equaled her with merely a _'Wow'_.

"I'd say we're under several hundred feet of ocean," Davis explained as he craned his neck upward to watch the flock of tuna looking fish flushed through the water overhead.

"I would estimate around sixteen hundred-meters from this point," Toshiko quipped, though the Lieutenant-Colonel shot her a perturbed look as she quickly clammed up with a tiny leer at him.

"Colonel Carter, Doctor Weir," Rodney shouted as he bounded down the hall to join them. "I'm glad I found you."

"We're under water," John added as he jabbed a thumb to the bubbling water behind them.

"Yes, I was just coming to tell you," McKay nodded as he reached them, though he himself didn't shot an apprehensive glance out to the tidal swell around them. "Fortunately there is some kind of a force field holding back the water. Boy, that is impressive isn't it? Oh... yeah... Doctor Beckett found something you should see..."

* * *

The room was a large octangle, two parts of the eight walls that made up the room were made of glass and gave a spectacular view of the ocean outside.

Zack stared into the curling turquoise mists, an occasional bubble or small fish rising up past his eyes. Under him the city rose and fell, each tower reaching towards the surface in a stunning display nothing short of mind boggling. If the calculations he was formulating in his head were true it held an internal volume very close to that of Manhattan island, New York.

That quiet literally made it the largest archeological find in human history in not only importance but sheer size.

Most of her spires jutted up from the huge, snowflake-designed platforms that radiated from around the main tower. It was nothing like what Plato described in the '_Critias'_, the first known account of the Lost City. Its architecture was definitively postmodern; the engineer in him was already analyzing and pulling apart the structures to guess the amount of design and materials that went into their construction. Most were abstract prisms, pyramids and even a few spiraling columns. Others were so far beyond abstract even Zack's mind started to hurt trying to comprehend them.

"Zack," he turned back to Doctor Brennan who was setting up what little equipment she had managed to stow away in her backpack on a nearby table, "start a sweep of the room. Remove any particulates you find and catalogue them for study later when our equipment is off loaded."

"Lieutenant-Colonel Davis," Nick called up, walking for so long had left all of them a bit exhausted and he downed a bottle of water without pause, "told us to stay inside the designated areas until the soldiers gave the all clear."

"Yes," Temperance nodded, "but if our examination of the designated area happens to reveal any clues about how the Ancients lived, then it is not a problem."

"Oh goody," Greg clapped, "time to process."

"It looks like this room is a central ventilation system," Sara's eyes turned up towards a small angular vent in the ceiling. "I'll try to find an air duct or lint trap for better results."

"I'll give you a leg up," Nick offered, noticing that even with her height, the roof was still three feet out of her reach.

"I'll just stand here an' look pretty," Shawn continued to munch away at the ration bar in his hands, not really bothering much with the going on's with the team.

"As long as your helpful," Temperance mumbled. "Mr. Sanders, since our DNA lab isn't set up you can help Zack."

"Yes, Doctor Brennan," the man with the spiky hair nearly bounded across the room to do his job. He out stretched his hand to the younger scientist with a wide grin. "Hi! I'm Greg Sanders!"

Zack grasped the other's hand, though it was weak and without strength as Greg gave it a quick shake.

If he were back at the Jeffersonian then he would have sought advice from Jack or Angela in a moment but now being over three million-light years from even the edge of the Milky Way, which was now a total impossibility.

So that is probably why he said what he said next.

"You smell spicy?"

Save for Doctor Brennan, three pairs of eyes turned up to stare at him with a particular brand of confusion.

"Hey," Nick smirked as he began to unpack his kit, "Leggo my Greggo!"

"I was merely noticing your choice of cologne," Zack tried to explain his interest in Greg's cologne.

"Thank you," Greg answered, a bit unsure of himself, "It's _Fleur Du Male_, usually seventy dollars a pop. If you want to borrow it sometime-"

"I was merely noticing the smell," Zack explained, though as he continued his voice just began to increase in speed as he began to become anxious, "its scent complexity is deep and pronounced with a concentration of aromatic compounds in solvent form, typically the combination of water and ethanol to retain the fragrance."

"Either he's flirting with you," Sara mumbled as she rolled a pair of batteries into her flashlight, "or he just pulled a Grissom on you."

"I was merely deconstructing the chemical makeup of Mr. Sanders cologne," Zach argued towards the woman. "I have doctorate degrees in forensic anthropology, engineering and am writing my dissertation on chemical engineering."

"Early acceptance at Harvard, Bachelor of Science in Theoretical Physics and a Masters from Berkley…" Sara laughed as she slide the cap back onto her light before even giving him a glance. "I have you beat kid."

Zach wanted to argue, wanted to say something but the detached smile she was giving hinted that no matter what he said would already mean nothing to her.

"I'll go get some sample kits from the Gate room," it wasn't a lie or a necessity but it was a valid reason to leave. He didn't wait for approval from Doctor Brennan, merely seemed to glide out the room without a second thought.

"Weird kid," Sara murmer indistinctly.

"You feel all high and mighty making fun of someone with a mental condition?" Shawn muttered from the far side of the room, grinding the grit from his ration bar between his teeth like cheap gum.

"What?" Sara questioned him.

"I've done many an odd job," the man flashed her a lavish smile as he rose to reach eye level with Sara. "One of them was mopping floors in a psychological counseling facility. Incredibly boring, tedious work but it let me read as many of those psych books as I could 'borrow' out of the Chief resident's office. '_Lack of empathy, repetitive and restrictive behavior that is bordering on intense, literal interpretation of social nuances and incredible difficulty in social situations_.' I'd bet Asperger's syndrome."

Sara froze, so did Nick and Greg at the implication. If it were true, she had just insulted someone who quiet literally couldn't help but come off arrogant as intelligence and emphasis on academic achievement were the only way they knew how to deal with life.

Social interaction was beyond comprehension to them.

It would be like trying to teach quantum mechanics to a newborn infant.

"Feel better 'bout those degrees now?" Shawn clapped her on the shoulders. "I think I'll go help Zach with those sample kits."

He turned about and made his exit, but not before Greg manage to fire off one question before he left.

"What are you?"

"Maybe I'm just psychic…"

* * *

The room was a glow with some kind of light; the moment Carter, Davis, Weir, Sheppard and McKay entered they noticed the near transparent woman standing on the dias at the center. From her position in the center of the egg shaped room she seemed to glide through the air before them.

"..._in the hope of spreading new life in a galaxy where their appeared to be none. Soon the new life grew, prospered. Here_..."

"It's a hologram," Doctor Beckett chuckled at the group from where he stood at a podium. "The recording loops. This is my second time through."

"What have we missed?" Paul asked as he joined him.

"Not much," Carson explained, "but here comes the best part."

"... _exchange knowledge and friendship_," above her head a three-dimensional image of the Pegasus galaxy flashed into existence, numerous stars began to glow bright blue in succession as the hologram continued. "_In time a thousand worlds bore the fruit of life in this form. Then one day our people stepped foot on a dark world where a terrible enemy slept. Never before had we encountered beings with powers that rivaled our own. In our over confidence, we weren't prepared and outnumbered_."

One by one the tiny blue stars began to fade into an angry red, gradually the retreat of the Ancients became apparent as only one star remained a shining blue against the terrible tide of crimson that rose around it.

"_The enemy fed upon the defenseless human worlds_," the holo-woman professed, "_like a great scourge until finally only Atlantis remained. This city's great shield was powerful enough to withstand their terrible weapons but here we were besieged for many years. In an effort to save the last of our kind we submerged our great city into the ocean. The Atlantis Stargate was the one and only link back to Earth from this Galaxy, and those who remained used it to return to that world that was once home. There the last survivors of Atlantis lived out the remainder of their lives. This city was left to slumber, in the hope that our kind would one day return_."

The hologram, lady and galaxy included, faded as the room plunged back into a dull noon light.

"So the story of Atlantis is true," McKay mumbled out loud as the realization dawned on him, "a great city that sank in the ocean."

"It just didn't happen on Earth," Beckett added.

"Well the ancient Greeks must've heard it from one of the surviving ancients," Davis pondered. "Space travel was impossible to image back then, so they simply said it was on Earth."

"I don't like the idea that the all powerful Ancients got their asses kicked," Davis interrupted.

Conversation was cut short as Peter nearly stumbled into the room, trying to catch his breath as he quickly whispered something in Doctor McKay's ear before he was gone, dashing out the door.

"Lets' hear it again," rising back to the podium Beckett began to activate the hologram again. "This time from the beginning."

"Stop!" McKay's abrupt outburst caught all their attention. "Turn it off."

At the cry Carson quickly pulled back from the device, as if it had stung him of sort.

"What's going on, Rodney?" Weir asked at the scientist's sudden agitation.

"Power levels throughout the city are dropping," he yelled, turning quickly to leave, "like a stone!"

"What does that mean?" Davis shouted after him

"If we don't stop everything we're doing right now," McKay cried as he rushed to the exit, "we're dead..."


	6. Chapter Six – Final Divinity

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Six – Final Divinity

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback**: Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

The ground gave a violent shudder, nearly causing Sam to loss her footing as she bounded into the control room, Davis, Weir and McKay following in her wake.

"Report!?" she shouted as the room shook again, causing a few who had not found their absolute foot to stumble and nearly fall.

"Please tell me this is not my fault... again," Doctor Beckett grumbled as the he held tight to the nearest station, trying not to pay attention to several ugly looks shot his way.

"No!" McKay yelled as he pulled up the power readouts onto the large holographic screen that dominated the back of the Gate control room. "From what we've been able to ascertain the city is powered by three zero point modules."

"Two have already are completely dry," Toshiko added in, moving towards the screen as she pointed at two of the flashing columns that dominated the graph, "the third and final is reaching maximum entropy. The city already has transferred to emergency power but when it fails, it will go dark for good."

"So the bottom line is that this entire city is going to sink a second time?" Lieutenant-Colonel Davis grounds the words out, nearly refusing to believe it.

"The force field that's holding back the ocean has collapsed to its minimum sustainable levels. Look," Rodney tapped another icon on the station and the holo-screen transferred over to a glowing map of the undersea facility, several areas were flashing angry red, "here, and here where the shield's already failed and the city's flooded. It could have happened years ago. This section's likely more protected because of the Stargate."

There was a pause as the knowledge sank in.

"What if it fails completely?" Sheppard asked the most pressing question.

"It's a matter of when," Rodney spoke deathly, "not if."

"The central tower is sealed air-tight," Zelenka chimed in from the far side of the control room, "but without any power we'll be without life support or escape."

"I estimate after that we'll have enough air for barely two hours," Toshiko added, "before we succumb to asphyxiation."

Atlantis was trying her best to save them but she was a sinking ship, eventually all her efforts would just be prolonging an slow and watery death.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Davis," Carter shouted to her military team leader, "you need to order your security teams to stop searching the city immediately!"

"All security teams," Paul tapped his head radio, even as his voice crackled through the room, "fall back to the Gate room."

"It's not going to be good enough," Rodney shook his head from side to side, "We have barely hours, maybe days if we minimize power expenditure."

"What about our own generators?" Weir pressed on, as she herself studied the collapsing map of the city closely. The jagged glowing portions of the metropolis were slowly growing inward to the singular pulsing blue of the main tower.

"We're working on that," McKay explained, "but even with our most advanced Naquada Power Generators, the equations are coming up short."

Naquadah generators were the most powerful energy production systems. A technology originally obtained from the peaceful Orbanians, the first such Earth built device was created by none other than Colonel Carter herself. If a device that could easily cause a twenty-kiloton explosion or power a Stargate couldn't even add an hour to the Atlantis shield, they were in trouble.

"We're rigging them into the city's power distribution system," Radek inserted as he handed over the calculations to Colonel Carter, "but it will only buy us a few extra hours."

"So we need to find more ZPM's," Weir formulated the only possible explanation.

"How do we do that if we can't search the city?" Davis however couldn't fathom how that was possible.

"If there were more here," Rodney interjected, "we'd be able to detect them."

"I know it sounds bullocks," Carson piped up, "what about trying to reach the surface?"

"Unlikely," Toshiko disagreed. "We didn't bring any deep water diving gear and even then we have no clue where the closest land mass is or if this planet even has any land to speak of."

"Can we use the Stargate?" Davis was the next to propose an idea.

"There's nowhere near enough power to open a wormhole back to Earth," McKay argued.

"Maybe somewhere in this galaxy?" John put forward.

McKay's eyes seemed to light up like two big supernova's as the realization finally dawned upon him.

"Absolutely!" the Canadian nearly jumped out of his skin in excitement. "Fortunately most Ancient technology still uses good old fashioned push-buttons, so we've been able to access the Stargate control system and a library of known Gate addresses in the database."

"That's not all, look at this," Peter chimed in as he stood next to one of the far off stations.

Without pause he hit several crystal icons on his post but it was down on the floor of the Gate room. A surge of energy fell over the Stargate, the inert center of the blue ring suddenly crystallized in a throbbing white puddle of transparent air. A force field now dominated the former empty space.

But it wasn't finished there. From two points flanking the Gate the floor split, from the sudden abyss below rose two precision cannons. Each crystal like tube locked into position before they hinged downward, pointing their cone like protrusions towards the inactive gate.

"Just like the iris on the Earth gate," Davis commented with a whistle, "even with an defensive team."

That was serious. Not only had the Ancients prepared a shield to keep out unwanted guests, they had added a few additional features to send anyone that got through packing.

The grinding of teeth however stopped any further fascination.

"Using power, using power, using power!" Rodney grumbled over and over.

Peter rapidly activated his station again and the cannon pair along with the iris disappeared from sight.

"At the least we don't have to deal with any uninvited guests," Carter nodded before she turned to regard Paul. "Lieutenant-Colonel. Assemble a team, we need safe haven, or better still another power source. Doctor Weir, the Ancient's said they seeded life throughout this galaxy. While we can't be sure if we'll encounter those beings I'll need a diplomatic team ready to go."

"Lieutenant Ford," Davis tapped his radio as he descended down to the Gateroom floor, "gather security teams one and two. Everyone gear up."

"Major, I want you to go along," Weir shouted behind her as she followed the soldier.

"Yes, ma'am!" Sheppard nodded as he broke off to grab his gear.

"Doctor Jackson, Doctor Brennan," Elizabeth also tapped her own communication device as she pulled on her pack, "report to the Gate room."

A moment later two '_Understood_' came through her radio.

"Alright, McKay," Carter nodded as the team began to assemble. "It's your pick. Start dialing."

"Understood," the scientist moved to another odd station, this one closest to the balcony overlooking the disembarkation floor. Tapping one of the glowing triangles that dominated the station, the Gate began to respond. "Chevron one encoded!"

"Rodney!" Samantha yelled. "Hurry up!"

"Fine," McKay grumbled but in quick succession tapped the remaining icons on the dialing station.

In an instant the Atlantis Stargate activated for the second time in barely a day, a whoosp of uncontrollable energy exploded forth and then rolled back into the trademark rippling puddle.

On the Gateroom floor, Peter finished his final check of the awaiting MALP.

"Servos check out," the British man nodded as he shot a look up to the control area. "MALP Four is ready for off-world recon."

"Send her through," Carter ordered, leaning over the railing to observe all their motions.

Like earlier today the machine rolled forward and through the event horizon without pause. With baited breath they waited, everyone staring towards the Gate anticipating the propitious chance something was going to come through at any moment.

A beeping sound on Grodin's tablet computer confirmed the device had reached the other side with success.

"MALP reads full viability and no immediate signs of activity around the Stargate," he confirmed as he rose the steps up to Colonel Carter. "But its pitch black."

"Good enough for me," Lieutenant-Colonel Davis announced as he pulled down the brim of his cap and headed towards the Stargate. "Let's move out people!"

The sixteen person team began to form up, each soldier raising their rifle as they marched towards the massive ring, the three remaining civilians waiting in the center, weaponless but moving vigilant behind them.

Sheppard was about to move on with them when his ear caught the click of a gun being loaded.

His hand was already out and stopping Carmen as she walked passed.

"You're not going," he shot her a glare as the young girl tried to fight against him.

"In your dreams," she slapped his hand away, trying again to move on but still he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"We don't know what's on the other-side," John wasn't convinced, "but I know without a doubt it's not a mall. And you are not handing a gun."

She stared at him for an instant, a pair of amber eyes that seemed to hold the white hot intensity of a small star.

"Marine," the closest soldier to her froze, bewildered by the sudden declaration, "weapon!

"Ma'am," he was unsure of himself but after a shooting a glance between the Major and the Specialist he passed over his rifle.

With an expert's eye, Carmen spun the weapon around, checking the barrel, cocking the chamber and finally adjusting the sight.

"Standard German 5.56mm assault rifle," she rattled off in succession, pressing the gun into the crock of her arm and unsnapping the ammo casing, "G36 for short. Larger and bulkier then a P90 and weighs over eight-pounds yet has an effective range of two to eight hundred-meters and a rate of fire of 750-rounds per minute. The choice heavy weapon for American law enforcement and SWAT," she slapped the ammo cartridge back into the rifle before handing it back to the soldier before unsnapping the large, angular weapon she had strapped to her back. "Now I prefer the M249 squad automatic machine gun, much easier to accessorize with. Oh... and unless that mall has a gun store, I promise I won't squeal like a little girl."

"Specialist!" Lieutenant-Colonel Davis' voice boomed over towards the pair, "stop jerking the Major around and take point!"

"Right away sir," the smug look on Carmen's face was enough to perturb Sheppard for the rest of the day to come. "See you on the other-side, Major..."

* * *

The moment they were out of the Gate, everyone was in motion. The entire world was a world of shadows, only illuminated by the green hue of the night vision goggles that made the surrounding forest lands a haze of the unknown.

"Cortez, Morgan, Markham, Parker. Scout ahead of the Gate." Davis shouted towards the three men and one woman who were orienting themselves behind him. His attention focused back to another pair coming up beside him. "Stackhouse, Bullock, stand guard here."

"Yes, sir!" the group responded, two staying behind and four splitting off into seemingly random directions away from the Ancient device.

As the remaining twelve members of the reconnaissance team kept tight to their formation, they began to move on into the clearing that surrounded the Gate, the knee high tall grass bowing under their feet as they trudged through the field.

"There's almost no stars in the sky," Elizabeth commented, tilting her head back to notice the barely noticeable sprinkle of stars in the night sky. "Wonder where we are in Pegasus?"

"Doctor McKay said this world was the closest to Atlantis," Daniel explained, navigating the numerous small rocks hidden in the underbrush, "only about a hundred-light years away. Maybe this planet and Atlantis are closer to the galactic edge of Pegasus then we thought?"

"Well the Ancients had just suffered a biblical plague, the disillusion of their entire civilization and traveled several million light-year coped up in their city," Elizabeth quipped with a smile at the anthropologist. "Who's to say they weren't antsy to land on the first world they could when and put their feet on some real ground."

The air was cold, probably just starting the descent into winter as the leaves on the trees had just begun the progression into the realm of gold's and red's.

Weir pulled her jacket a little closer to her body, even after all the time she had spent at the Ancient Outpost in Antarctica her nerves still took a shiver in the is air.

"Sir!" their attention all turned in one direction, towards Sergeant Dean Bates who had originally take point but now was waving a hand in the air to beckon them forward. "We found something."

They converged in an instant, all eyes searching out what the soldiers had uncovered.

It toke barely a second to see why this discovery was of particular interest.

A person, or at one point it had been human. Now it was just a withered husk on the ground, dirty bones lying on the ground after the flesh that once knit them together had long since dissolved away. As if someone had laid them out for the team to just stumble across them, the skeleton was remarkably undisturbed, though from the number of people gathering around it that could soon be in jeopardy.

"Body appears to be female," Doctor Brennan quickly shot into her analysis of the remains, tossing her pack to the ground and setting to work without interruption, "by the widening of the hips I'd estimate she's was between sixteen and eighteen years old at time of death."

"Look at these," Jackson joined her, reaching down past the cage of ribs that jutted from the dirt, pinching and slowly removing a glinting piece of metal from the mess. "Metal buttons."

"So she's wearing buttons," John couldn't help but smirk at the discovery, "what's the big deal?"

"Her clothing may have decomposed," Temperance was quick to explain the logic of the situation to the young man, "but from the refinement of these accessories means she's probably native to a pre-industrial civilization, maybe even further. Weathering on the bones and growth of the surrounding vegetation lead me to confidently say she's been dead well over a decade."

"Then we can hope there's a city nearby," Davis surmised. "If they have industrial machines, maybe they have the technology to help us."

If we could remove her to a lab I could-"

"Your lab could be underwater in only a few hours," Weir cut her off before there was any chance of Brennan taking this any further. "We keep moving. You can come back for your friend later."

Temperance was reluctant but knew they were here for another purpose.

"Cortez to Davis," the young woman's voice crackled in their radios, though in its hushed tones it was nearly consumed by the background static. "I have movement along your south flank. Appears to be two beings moving erratically."

Her transmission may have been intended for Lieutenant-Colonel Davis but it had been over an open channel. Everyone was on alert in an instance, weapons scanning the line of trees that surrounded the open field.

"Let's be alive people," Paul kept his voice low but the tension was enough to make them all on alert.

A branch snapped, not too far off to be unheard but close enough to go unnoticed.

"Hold it," he whispered, the mere sound of his voice was enough to cause Doctor Weir and Sergeant Boyan Stackhouse to freeze in their tracks. "I thought I heard something."

All attention turned outward, eyes scanning the underbrush for any kind of possible ambush.

Sheppard could feel the fear rising in his gullet and though he made no outward indication of his conflicting emotions he felt the terrible urge to run and hide fighting to take control of his legs and send him fleeing. But training and his own male bravado kept him in place and doing his duty.

When the first creature broke through leaves and underbrush all fear disappeared and only the cold determination remained.

* * *

The lights dimmed, the entire room nearly plunged into darkness if the tiny, unseen crystals in the ceiling had fought back the darkness so valiantly. But their fading flickering was just another hint that Atlantis was starting to fail.

"Rodney," Carter asked, moving back from the balcony that overlooked the inactive Gate, "how bad is it?"

"Gimme a second," the scientist mumbled, typing away at near blinding speed on the computer he had interconnected with the city's database.

It had been an hour since the team had departed, tensions were running high as the groaning of the water pressure outside had begun to grow loud and fear was rising in the air.

"You said that ten minutes ago!" Carson grumbled from the other side of the room, trying not to catch a glimpse of the water bumbling past the window on his right.

"There," Rodney shouted after an instant the lights began to brighten again. "It's not much but I've tied one of our generators into the power grid. That buys us six, maybe eight-hours more. Now what did you want?"

Carter shot him a perturbed look at his detachment to her previous inquiry but she tossed it aside for the fact he just bought them some precious time.

"I think we could have something," she stated, handing over her own tablet to show him what she had. "Doctors Hester and Blackwell said they discovered a bay full of what they're calling ships."

"As in spaceships?" the moment Sam nodded, Rodney's mental gears were in motion. "If they were designed for space travel they'd definitely be air-tight. Looks like we may have some lifeboats."

"You think you can figure out ...?"

"Give me enough time and I'll make it happen," McKay was already running even before the Colonel had her suggestion out, snatching his computer from the nearest station and dashing off. "Toshiko, Zelenka, I'll need you!"

"I feel so privileged," the young female technician mumbled as she grabbed her own tablet and started charging out with Zelenka in tow.

"Carson," the Scotsman perked up as Rodney shouted his name, "I'm going to need you too."

Carter could only hope the four of them would could make some quick progress to offset the collapsing moral around here.

Another tremor ran through the ground below their feet, nearly causing a few people to loss their footing, more then that the concerned eyes that looked to the ceiling expecting it to break under the tidal devastation above them.

"Pressure is starting to buckle down on the city," Peter explained as he ran his eyes down another string of data scrolling over his computer screen and over the numerous holo-screens surrounding him. "The shield is holding but its having to redistribute itself to prevent any fractures from forming."

It was like they were living in a glass house, every time a crack formed the house got a little smaller to fill in the opening. Eventually there would be no room left.

"Let's hope we bought ourselves a little longer," the Colonel grimaced as she moved back to the balcony. "Ianto!"

The Welshman was quick to respond to his name, bounding up the steps to reach his superior. Since the IOA had appointed him her personal assistant she had found him quick to please, always ready to do his job beyond its qualification and beyond that she knew nothing more about them, never offering anything about his personal life outside of the job. Other than his name, what was stated in his docket, she knew nothing more than that.

She didn't know if she'd trust her life to him, but he was good enough to trust.

"Yes, Colonel Carter," the dark haired male tipped his head as he reached the top of the staircase to the control room.

"We may not have long left in Atlantis," the floor gave another shudder to get her point across. "I want you to start compiling a list of supplies that can be moved through the Gate or into the ships we're checking out. I need to know what can be taken in a hurry... and what we'll have to leave behind."

"Of course... um," the man hesitated, a tiny hitch in his voice but enough for Sam to catch that he wanted to tell her something but didn't consider it right to speak up without permission from herself.

"Is there something wrong. Mr. Jones?" Sam decided to let him speak.

"No, it's just..." he seemed to roll his mind around how he was going to say this before finally speaking again, "some of the scientists are getting antsy. There's talk among some to Gate to the world Lieutenant-Colonel Davis went to instead of waiting until the last moment here."

She was a military scientist, most of the others on the Expedition were civilians who had joined the program. Of course they would start to get restless when the situation started to deteriorate. There was always on rabble rouser in the crowd.

"Thank you, Ianto," Carter accepted, allowing the man to leave to do his work as she moved off to find the next person she needed to see. "Ms. Blake, I need to see you."

"How can I help, Colonel?" the woman asked as she rose up from the Gate room floor to meet her.

"I'm hearing about unrest among some of our Expedition members."

"Doctors Kavanagh, Wagner and Greta are starting to seed unrest," Allison couldn't help but hide the intense annoyance in her voice as she spoke each name. "Most especially Kavanagh, the man has a mouth on him but the intellect to back it up."

"Like my old CO use to say," Carter chuckled bitterly, "'_there's always one in a bunch_'. Keep an eye on 'em but in the mean time we have more pressing concerns. I want you and subordinates ready to lead Expedition members through the Gate at a moment's notice... even if Davis' team hasn't cleared us yet."

"On it..."

* * *

Hands were up in the air, short arms rising to the sky as both beings staggered to a stop. One was wearing a haphazard mask, its disproportion features failed to hide the face underneath. It was alien but the person standing beside it was obviously human, a boy.

"Please, don't hurt us!" the boy shouted, backing up as he saw the guns raised at him and the black clad men pressing forward menacingly.

"We are just playing!" another yet definitely human voice muffled from under the mask but also human spoke.

Before any of the team members could speak another, taller being broke from the forest and quickly interposed itself between the kids and the guns pointing at them. This one was without a doubt a man and human.

"Please don't hurt them!" he shouted, his voice deep as shadows pressing in around them, arms sweeping back to hide the two smaller individuals behind him with as much of his body as possible. "They're just playing, they mean you no harm."

Everyone was on edge, the team shooting concerned and confused glances at each other. Not only had they just encountered a human in a distant galaxy, they couldn't tell if they were human like them or human like the Ancients.

"Stand down," Davis asked as he leaned in next to the Major and Doctor Weir who he had stepped in front of to protect, his own rifle still raised. "Just a couple of kids."

The weapons slowly fell from their targets to point at the ground but the soldiers still held them at ready just in case thing went awry.

Knowing the situation had ebbed but was still tense, the adult of the alien trio stepped forward.

"Halling," the man tapped his chest, before pointing at Major Sheppard.

But John did not comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. "I don't know what that means?"

"It's his name, Major," Paul grumbled beside him.

"Oh," the man understood his folly and quickly covered by giving the man a bow. "Halling, it's nice to meet you."

He was a towering man, standing a good head over the entire Expedition. Eying the group, the fear was evident in his eyes but the curiosity in his stance made it evident he wanted to know who these strangers were.

"Are you here to trade?" the man asked, sending searching eyes across the group and already knowing they were far from that.

"Trade," Sheppard nodded quickly. "Yes, we're t-traders."

"Brilliant translating, Major," Paul again mumbled, catching a glare from his subordinate in the silent form of _'can you think of anything better'_.

"Yes!" Weir continued, hoping to continue this line of discussion for fear that Halling would catch on. "We come from a far away planet called Earth. This is the first world we have visited."

Though it was obvious they were stumbling over their own lies, for some reason Halling seemed to accept them at face value.

"That is not any world I know of but welcome," he nodded before rounding on the two boys that had taken to hiding in his massive shadow. Ignoring the former, he pulled the mask from the one, unruly long hair much similar to his own fell free as the classic look of a boy in trouble cast up to Halling. "How many times have I told you not to play in the forest after dark?"

"I'm sorry, father," the boy mumbled, suddenly becoming very interested in a spot of particular dirt on his boots.

"I'm just glad you're safe," he admitted after a moment, bowing down to press his forehead to his son's. Rising back up after a breath and back to the Expedition team. "Teyla will wish to meet with you. Come."

"Ford, Dean, Buckler..." Davis shouted, "head back to the Gate. Dial Atlantis base and let Colonel Carter know we've made contact with the indigenous people..."

* * *

"Eighty flights!" Jeanette could feel the fire burning in her chest as he lungs fought for air. "Eighty freaking flights of stairs and I still can't see where the bottom is!"

"Complaining isn't going to make it go any faster, Captain," Hung kept his voice low as they continued to descend the steps.

"How much farther is this supposed to be?" Jeanette could careless, they had been going down these steps for more than an hour and they still hadn't found what they were looking for.

"McKay and Grodin said the ZPM power station was just eight levels down from this one," Lieutenant Dylan Hanses provided, the Marine offered a smile at the Australian soldier. "It should be another-"

They were just about to round the next series when something caught Jeanette's eye. A splash of white on the brown flooring, entirely out of place but if her eye's weren't lying it looked like a person.

"Hold on..." training kicked in as Jeanette rose a fist into the air and brought her pistol up. "I think there's someone down here."

"The city has been abandoned longer then the span of known human civilization and you thought you saw someone?" Hung questioned, not understanding what she could possibly be talking about. "Maybe you're just seeing things.

"Just shut up and come with me!" Jeanette shot the two men a glare as she stepped out of the stairwell and into one of the oddly angular hallway.

"Doctor McKay said no exploring!" Dylan loudly hissed, trying to beckon her back. "We don't want to waste any more power then we have to."

"Just humor me," Jeanette gave them all a tight smile before she headed off.

"Oh hell," Hung said under his breath before following after his comrade, followed soon after by a reluctant Dylan.

It was barely around the corner, just out of distance for them to miss the whole of it but close enough to pique their interest. Barely a glint of white fabric, so out of place but it seemed to beckon Jeanette forward.

Slowly and cautiously she stepped down the hall, her two male comrades following behind her. Craning her neck around the corner and getting a better view of what had caught her eye, her mouth dropped and she was sprinting around the corner in an instant.

"Oh, my god," was all she could shout as she dropped to her knees next to the human body lying on the floor.

She was ancient, possibly one of the oldest people Jeanette had ever seen not in a coffin. Though given her current emaciation her face looked nearer a mummy then a elderly woman who had simply lay down on the floor and fallen asleep.

Tentatively Jeanette reached down and touched her fingers to the wrinkled, blotted skin just along the left side of the woman's neck. Without pause she drew them back, the sigh escaping her lips the tell all sign she felt nothing.

"This is Captain McCullough to Colonel Carter," she tapped her radio once and waited for a reply while the two soldiers behind her shot concerned glances between the person on the floor and every shadow around them.

"Carter here," a voice crackled over her headset, "go."

"We've found a body," Jeanette relayed over the device. "No pulse but she's dressed like an Ancient."

"Understood," the woman hesitated for a moment, taking in the information before responding. "Have one of your people remain, a medical examiners team is on the way. Keep heading towards the power station."

"I'm guessing you want to stay here?" Hung asked with a smirk.

"Unless you want to be the only field medic in Atlantis, then I guess so," McCullough shot back. "Now get moving before we're all reenacting _'Under the Sea'_..."

* * *

Dead, dried leaves crunched under foot, the only sound in the woods as the ground treaded onward. Following the lead of Halling, they had been walking for a good forty minutes without pause, over a deep, winding stream, dodging around trees possibly centuries old and on towards their destination that no one but natives knew where they were going.

"Lieutenant-Colonel?" Doctor Brennan quickened her pace to catch up to the soldier. Still walking the man tipped her a nod as they continued on. "If you don't mind my asking, I've noticed you seem to have a problem with Major Sheppard."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Doctor," the man shrugged. "We just don't get along well together."

"Is that why you assigned him Specialist Cortez?" Temperance inquired. "As it would appear you enjoy causing him torment."

Sighing, he knew even someone who was as emotionally oblivious as Doctor Brennan had manage to catch onto that particular assignment's ulterior motive.

"Sheppard is immature," Paul explained in a hushed tone, casting an eye to the front of the group where the Major and his new entourage, the two boys, walked on. "He's prone to bending the rules to suit himself. Cortez is the youngest member of this Expedition but one of the most highly qualified. They balance each other so it's not just one person's fault."

"What about Hitler?" the anthropologist blinked innocently. "Or Dario Kordic? He did pretty well blaming the faults of an entire nation on someone."

Davis just shot her a look, wondering if she was being funny or serious and never knowing which one he could put his money on.

Ahead of them the Major continued on with her two fans in tow.

"What's that mask you got on?" the one boy, the son of Halling, asked as he pointed at the pair of night vision goggle hanging around his neck.

"Helps you see in the dark," Sheppard smiled as he passed over the piece of eyewear to the kid. "Check it out!"

Beaming a smile the child took the device and placed it against his face like he had seen the soldiers doing before. All he could describe was surmised in a single word as he took in the new and highly detailed world that exploded out of the night.

"Whoa!"

"Let me see…" his companion insisted, to which his friend handed over quickly. "Wow! Can I have it?"

"No," he quickly removed the military hardware from the kid's hands and snapped it back onto his neck. However he did catch a glimpse of the mask Halling's son had formerly been wearing. "What's the mask you got on."

"This?" one of the kids held up the ragged, monstrous mask. For some reason, that caught Sheppard's attention, the next word held a sense of dread in the boy's voice. "Wraith."

"Wraith?" John rolled the name around for a moment. "What's that?"

"You don't know?" the youngsters both shot him a astounded look, as if the sky had just turned green and upside down.

"What world did you come from?" his friend asked, increasingly inquisitive.

Without missing a beat, the one holding the mask continued on with the line of questioning. "Can we go there?"

That sent a pang of loss through Sheppard.

It wasn't until now, after all the excitement after finding the lost city of Atlantis, racing to beat a encroaching ocean and exploring an alien world, that he had nearly forgotten that he was just one of the hundred fifty members of the Expedition not cut off from their homeworld, possibly forever.

"Afraid not," he flashed them a charming smirk. "I'm from a galaxy far, far away."

"_Cortez to Davis_," the radios chirped as Carmen's voice echoed in their ears. "_I have sighted a settlement about two klicks from your position. They appear rather primitive_."

"We don't want them to think we're planning an attack by hiding spies in the forest," Elizabeth noted, shooting the Lieutenant-Colonel a glance.

"Understood," Paul acknowledged before tapping his receiver. "Specialist, we've already made contract with the indigenous natives. Are you close to our position?"

"_Close enough to know you have a man and two children with you,_" the girl reported ominously.

"Close enough," the man responded, receiving an uneasy look from Weir. "You can come out Cortez."

Without pause there was the snap of a branch and then Carmen was standing in front of the group, holding her rifle against her chest and eying the newcomers with her comrades with mild interest.

"Whoa," one of the boys whistled. "Is she a Runner?"

Before anyone could ask Halling was shushing his son.

"Jinto!" the man reprimanded the child. "We do not speak of those people."

"Yes, father," Jinto solemnly understood.

"Report specialist!" Davis barked as the young woman approached.

"Native village up ahead," Carmen whipped several stray hairs and a wash of sweat on her forehead, a testament to the extreme distance she had covered in such a short amount of time, "estimate between thirty and forty people. No signs of heavy or automatic weaponry above archery and spear based implements. Threat level low, sir."

"Good work," Paul ordered as the young woman moved off to her still somewhat unwilling partner, "take point with Major Sheppard."

Unknown to her, all eyes followed her as she headed towards the group's midsection.

"I'm still never going to get use to someone so young being on this mission," Weir muttered, before waving the group on. "Let's move ahead."

"Miss me?" Carmen smirked as she took pace with the Major.

"Barely," John shot right back.

Yet before she could mount a sufficient retort she felt a tug on the brim of her jacket.

"Are from _Eu'arth_ like the others?" Jinto looked up at her, barely a head taller yet seeming to hold an air of self-assurance around her.

"Why yes I am," Cortez smiled back at the adolescent before turning back to her partner. "Who's your friend?"

"Carmen, meet Jinto and his friend Wex," Sheppard introduced the youth pair.

"You talk differently than the others," Jinto commented, noticing the slight inflection in the soldier's voice, "but you say you're from the same world."

"How far is Earth from here?" Wex added just as quickly.

"My father came from a country called Spain," Carmen explained happily, "on the far side of my world from where Major Sheppard's people come from. We speak a language called Spanish while most people in our Expedition speak English. Earth is so far away that light from your stars take millions of years to reach you."

"Can we go there?" Wex eagerly asked.

"Ask your father first..."

* * *

"Markov, Xiaoyi!" Allison's voice echoed through the Gateroom as the women in question turned to see their superior descending the steps.

"YES," they both declared in unison.

"With me!" she stated, moving off to the empty conference room situated just off the main area. Svetlana and Shen were quick to follow, though none spoke until the doors finally slide shut and they had the privacy Allison was looking for. "Colonel Carter wants us to start forming up the Expedition into three waves to move through the Gate when Davis' team checks in. I don't want it mentioned outside this room, especially not to the Colonel but we may have to do this all in one go and without pause. Because of that I want you to split team members up based on survival importance to decide who goes through first."

"You want us to pick who goes through the Gate based on how valuable they are?!" Shen protested the sudden implications. "That's barbaric."

"Ve are talking about long-term survival here," Svetlana countered her companion's argument with cold Russian logic. "I was old enough to remember old Soviet Russia, I knov sometimes it's a game of statistics vhen it comes to people's lives."

They were at the crunch time and though Allison valued every member of this Expedition for their talents and skills but when it came down to it, those people that would have the largest impact on this groups ultimate survival. People who could shoot a weapon and those that could heal the wounds were of the top importance but they couldn't afford to spend valuable resources put the weak first.

It was harsh, it was unethical and it could mean the survival or death of the entire Expedition. Not everyone was important... in a critical moment not everyone was worth saving.

"Both of you have studied the Expedition member profiles," Allison locked both women with a stare, burrowing her point across as she spoke. "You know who needs to go where. I want medical and military trained members in the first party... those with serious medical needs or handicaps... last."

"You want us to also play Grim Reaper?" Shen sadistically noted.

"I don't like this any better then you," her voice was barely above a whisper but the fury in it almost screamed, "but as a sign of good faith and trust I'm letting you into my command decisions. If you can't do it, I'll bust you down to janitors and find someone else. When this hits the fan its all going to fall apart. We have to have a plan in place and once we're on the other side it could be the difference between living to the end of the month or freezing on the first night. Can I know you will both what is needed?"

"Yes," Svetlana nodded but the deafening silence from the spot beside her caused her to elbow the younger Shen, who finally mutter a small, "Fine".

"Good," Allison solemnly dipped her head before turning to go. "I want all three waves ready to go in two-hours..."

* * *

The camp was more a collection of several dome like tents clustered around a huge communal fire, people going about their daily business stopped and stared as Halling led the newcomers along through the winding trails that crisscrossed the settlement.

One tent in particular seemed to hold particular significance, billowing flags and fine ornaments adorned its entrance and while its neighboring structures seemed to be open, villagers coming and going in a flurry of movement, this one sat near inert.

"It's Halling," the man declared, his voice a thunder blow so loud they probably heard it back at the Stargate miles out of the way. "I bring those from away."

"Enter," a woman's voice returned from the tent's interior.

Bowing to enter, the team found the inner area to be surprisingly room, though lacking in overhead clearance. Taller members had to dip their heads, while being greeted by the sight of a dozen individuals sitting around a communal table, all staring back at them.

"These people wish to trade," Halling expressed, his attention towards two beings standing off to the side, a man who nearly matched Halling in height and a shorter, amber haired woman in a animal skin trench coat.

"Ah," Major Sheppard nearly fell over as he rushed to remove his gun from before him to extend a bow. "It's nice to meet you."

While the men remained stoically, the woman stared at them with a level of calculation and uncertainly that was a bit unsettling.

"I am Teyla Emmagan, Daughter of Torren," she did not bow back, in fact she made no move to accept their presence while staring at them in wide eyed unsure wonder.

"I am Doctor Weir, Daughter of Maggie," Elizabeth diplomatically greeted, offering a tilt of her head to add some friendliness and respect to these people, "from the world of Earth. This is Lieutenant-Colonel Paul Davis, Major Sheppard, Doctors Jackson and Brennan. We've come here exploring."

"We do not trade with strangers," Teyla continued the route of the antagonist, keeping her stance of a coiled serpent waiting to strike at any sign of a possible threat to her people.

However with their chances of survival diminishing ever continued second they danced around and twiddled their thumbs, they were starting to get desperate for some leverage.

"We are new comers to this entire galaxy," Paul quickly supplied, hoping their ignorance could score them some pity points.

But still the natives stared back at them with bewildered interest and bubbling unease.

"We'll then we'll just…" Sheppard clapped his hands together and flashed a smirk, "we'll have to get to know each other. Me, I like Ferris wheels, college football, anything that goes more than two-hundred miles per hour."

He would have kept going if Doctor Weir hadn't snatched him by the elbow and whispered as quickly as possible, "Sheppard, that's not going to make an ounce of sense to them!"

"Feel free to speak up," the Major whispered right back in a retort. "I'm just trying to break the ice."

"Doctor," Paul now added his voice to the whispered discussion, "we are running out of time. If these people can't help us we need to tell Atlantis and move on."

Teyla must have seen their concern, the rising discourse and almost contained panic that was rising among them. They seemed like an honest people, they dressed strangely and seemed new to the ways of the galaxy. For some odd reason she suddenly took pity upon them.

"Each morning," the young woman piped up, ending the hushed conversation, "before dawn our people drink a stout tea to brace us for the coming day. Will you join us?"

"I love a good cup of tea," the one called Sheppard was quick to jump at the chance, though his eagerness seemed to perturb his companions. "Now there's another thing you know about me. We're practically friends already."

* * *

The floor gave another rumble, forcing her attention away from Doctor Beckett and up towards the ceiling as a prowling moan seemed to crawl through the walls. It was unsettling, off putting and the fact that an entire ocean was now pressing in barely a few meters away, the fear was starting to rise in her throat.

"You were saying," the man prompted her attention back to him and secretly she was happy that he didn't call any extra eyes to her abrupt yet fearful glance out one of the water filled portals nearby.

"Ah... yeah..." Jeanette mumbled as she threw her mind back on track. "We found her as we were heading for the ZPM power station. I did a once over an..."

She hesitated, as if the words had become trapped in her throat. She didn't want to say it because she knew what the reaction ultimately was going to be. But considering any little bit of information they found in this place could mean their survival she wasn't going to take the chance.

"She's still..." she had to force the last word out in a whisper, "..._warm_."

Even if it was a whisper, it was loud enough that all eyes shot her a peculiar, almost incredulously look.

"An anomaly," Zack shrugged off the idea because it was too farfetched to make sense. "If she died during or after the time that Ancients last inhabited Atlantis, her decomposition should be more pronounced. You must be mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken!" she bristled at his accusation. "I've done once over's one enough dead bodies to know-"

"Thank you, Captain McCullough," Carson quickly interrupted to keep any chances of a standoff among the already frazzled masses of the Expedition. "Go meet up with your team, we've got it from here."

Shooting the young scientist a glare the Captain began to descend the staircase again, hoping to reach her two team members twenty-flights below who were investigating the ZPM power station that was so rapidly dwindling into complete failure.

The moment she was out of sight, thought the clanking of her boots on the stairs continued, Carson returned in time to catch the first portion of Zack beginning to process the dead body.

"...no visible trauma other then the bruise on her forehead," the young man noted, slowly turning the head to note the angry black and blue abrasion that covered a good portion of the elderly woman's face. "I would estimate from her advanced age she must have tripped and fallen resulting in a concussion before death."

"Lividity is set," Greg brought attention to the pooling of blood in the body, as circulation had ceased her fluids had all fallen with gravity to give the portions of skin against the floor a distinctive flushed appearance as the rest of the form turned ghostly white. "She's been dead longer than two-hours. No rigor mortis yet, so it hasn't been over 72-hours."

"Corneas are cloudy," Nick flashed a pen light in the bodies eyes, gaining no reaction from the dilated pupils. "Some blood vessel hemorrhaging, my guess from her fall."

"Liver temperature is only 91.1 degrees," Carson added as he removed the probe from where he had made an incision along the woman's abdomen, though his voice was highly confused.

"That would mean," Sara counted that math back in her head for an instant, "she's been dead only five-hours."

"But we've only been here six-hours," Greg added just as perplexed.

"We come all the way to the Lost City of Atlantis just to have the last known Ancient die on us an hour after we arrive without anyone noticing?" Nick could barely hold out on how outlandishly ironic that just seemed to be.

"She's not an Ancient."

Everyone turned back to Shawn who had remained largely quiet since their arrival, spending most of his time just simply circling the deceased corpse as if a shark waiting for his kill. Now he had taken a position at the head of the body, bouncing on his heels at the idea that he now held a critical portion of information in this mystery that only he had happened to notice.

"What?" Sara asked.

"Explain," Zack questioned also.

"She has smallpox vaccination scar," he rolled up the woman's sleeve, revealing a distinctive circle scar on her upper left arm that was nearly invisible against the pale and wrinkled skin. "Plus she her hair smells like Herbal Essence... fruit fusion if I'm not mistaken. I doubt the Ancients had tacky shampoo a million years ago."

"She's human?" Nick couldn't readily tell the difference between a normal Human or an Ancient just by glance but she was dressed as an Ancient, in an Ancient City and in another galaxy. How could she not possibly be Ancient. "But what the hell is a human be doing in Pegasus?"

"She has something in her hand," the man reached over, removing a crumbled and yellowed piece of paper from the woman's hands, uncurling it slowly to avoid possibly damaging it before reading its incomprehensible contents. "What do you make of it?"

"It looks like the symbols on the Stargate upstairs..." Sara examined the parchment, though she trailed off as she noticed several letter scrawled beside the one particular address. "Is that English?"

"What the bloody hell?" Carson could barely believe what he was seeing.

Next to one of the addresses was the tightly scrawled English was the simple note '_Go here, first!', _as if someone was simply writing it as an afterthought, between getting the milk and reminding oneself of an appointment.

"Sanders," Zack announced as he turned away from body and regarded the team, "take these particulates back to our lab and start processing them. Colonel Carter will also want to see those addresses so take the note with you also."

"Who put you in charge?" Sara was unconvinced and cynical at the prospect of Mr. Addy is in charge.

"I am Doctor Brennan's assistant," the small, almost lithe man responded, "she will want all our findings when she returns. Since I will be the one repeating them to her it is the best assumption she would prefer me to be in charge."

"I would prefer to have someone who has hit puberty in charge," she grumbled right back.

"Then as the most senior member of the Expedition present," Beckett piped up as he crouched down to start his examination, "I think we should follow Doctor Addy's ambitions. Start processing the scene lassie."

"Mr. Spencer begin a walk-through," Zack quickly began launching off orders, "try and discern where she came from, Nick we'll need...."

* * *

Even if outside the sun has begun to break the horizon, already the humidity still held at just below unbearable. Several team members were already abandoning their jackets and heavy packs as the sweat tickled over their sink yet inside the villager tents it was surprisingly cool and airy. Elizabeth could almost relax for an instance, laying back into the leather made chair and enjoying the smell of animal fat cooking over the fire.

Beside her Doctor Jackson fixed his glasses for the third time, trying to find some kind of balance a top the bean bag sort of fabric that dotted the small room. Across from them Teyla, Halling and the final male villager that had still yet to tell them his name, sat on the opposite side of the table, a clutch of steaming tea creating a pleasant barrier between the two groups.

"Why don't we begin with the problem at hand," Teyla began, taking one of the tiny ceramic mugs and idling sipping at it, "tell us about where you come from."

"We come to your world because ours is in danger," Elizabeth decided the quickest explanation was the simplest. "Our Expedition may need a place to stay to avoid almost certain disaster... disaster that could cost over a hundred lives."

"They are lost from their homeworld," Halling tried to offer some aid, a familiar voice to an alien party. "Without the help of their brothers and sisters. If we do nothing, they are condemned to oblivion."

"Our home is too far to come to our aid," Jackson continued. "They don't know we are in any danger... they have no idea if we are even alive. To Earth we were dead the moment we shutdown the Atlantis Gate."

That last sentence seemed to strike a chord, as all three individuals seemed to stiffen in their backless chairs.

"Rumors among our people," the yet nameless man spoke up, "and those of other worlds say that the Ancestors returned to their distant home of Earth when the Wraith drove them from their city."

"That's true," Daniel eagerly nodded. "Eons ago the Ancients inhabited our galaxy, more specifically our home of Earth. They left after a terrible plague but some returned when they abandoned Atlantis. We are the second evolution of their form and some Ancient have interbred with our ancestors. Major Sheppard has one such who was an Ancient."

"We have seen many who claim to be the heirs of the City of the Ancestors," the nameless man seemed unconvinced by their claims, either of them. "None have lived up to those ideals... most have been thoroughly massacred by the Wraith within days of such insinuations."

"Taking such a title is a huge undertaking," Elizabeth tried to appear humble, hoping that a lack of apparent superiority would make them appear to be more relatable. "To live up to the Ancients is a great responsibility but what we are here for is a matter of urgency. Our people are in grave danger."

For a long time there was silence as the village leaders whispered among themselves, options and tones were neutral and Elizabeth was thankful that heated talks were not being applied here.

After a minute the verdict returned.

"We will not turn away those in need," Teyla bowed her head, most likely not to see the immense relief that exploded on the two doctor's faces.

"The gathering of tribes is not for another month," the nameless Athosian noted, concern filling his voice. "If we make the decision to take them in we will have to expand our hunting grounds and make reparations to the other Elders."

"The Rary and Tiod owe us for giving them part of our harvest last season," Halling retorted. "It won't hurt us."

"Our Expedition does not wish to burden yours," Elizabeth hoped to intercept a possible inter-cultural schism before they caused it. "We are merely looking for land to stay on until it is safe to return or new grounds are found.

"Our people never stay in one location for long," Teyla graciously offered, "Ours has been and is a nomadic life; you will not strain our tribe."

"The Athosians number barely a hundred souls," the undesignated man explained. "After the last great culling most moved on through the Gate and those that remained scattered into four tribes. Ours is the Tribe of Oris, known to hunt the South Lands and watchers of the Gate. The tribes Rary to the east, Iarodo to the west and Tiod of the Northern Lakes look to us for all off-world trade and to warn them of the coming of the Wraith."

"Kanaan maybe one of our tribal leaders but he is also a message carrier between our caravans first and foremost," Teyla explained, finally giving the young man a name after so long. "He has extensive experience among our distant brothers and sisters. Once this meeting is over I will dispatch him and his fellow messengers to our fellow tribes to welcome the newest resident's of Athos."

"We look forward to meeting them all..."


	7. Chapter Seven – Quiet before the Boom

**Title**: Depths of Balance

**Chapter**: Seven – Quiet before the Hailstorm

**Rating**: PG-13

**Feedback**: Constructive criticisms always welcomed. No flames

**Disclaimers**: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. They are creations of Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and copywriter by MGM. Plus any references I make towards other shows also fall under the same disclaimer.

* * *

They lifted the stretcher into the air, precariously balancing it as not to allow the silent form underneath the white blanket fall.

"Okay," Carson sighed as he gathered up the last of his supplies and heaved his pack back on. "Let's get her back to the infirmary and I'll do the autopsy there."

"This is going to be fun," Nick groaned as they started to rise up the steps, trying to keep the body steady but already dreading the possible eighty-flight back up to the Gateroom.

"What?" Greg smirked from the opposite end of the stretcher; surprisingly the gangly young man was barely breaking a sweat over the work. "Can't take it, Texas?"

The two men laughed and Carson rolled his eyes. Obviously as former CSI's they had seen death in all its degrees, now it was just something that happened, not as disturbing as it once was. As a medical doctor he had come to accept that decay and death were part of life, still it did leave him a bit disconcerted that two people so young had come to that conclusion that had taken him the better part of his career to reach.

"We'll clean up here and meet you back at the Gate room," Zack inserted the last of his evidence bag into his kit, making ready to depart.

"Are you sure-" Carson nearly protested, shooting a glance Sara, more than willing to wait for the young man who was starting to grow on him for some odd reason but was cut off as his radio gave a chirp. "Doctor Beckett, go... yes... okay... on my way. Looks like I have more important duties to attend to, see you when I can."

Since Nick and Greg already three flights up, Carson was off in a run before there was any room for argument, leaving Zack alone with a worried eye on Sara.

"Ms. Sidle," a hand reached out, as Zack continued to preoccupy with his current work, "can you hand me the collection swabs."

"Here," the swab was jabbed violently into his hand and though it was merely a piece of wood with a cotton head, he still grimaced as the material stabbed into his flesh.

Zack fixed Sara with a detached eye, keeping his main attention on his work but still observing her. She on the other hand watched his every moment, as if at any instance she was going to bore right through him and into the wall behind him.

"You don't like me," he didn't look up from his work, he didn't stop what he was doing, he simply said what he knew and continued doing what he needed to do.

"Is that a question or a statement?" Sara coldly responded, just as emotionless and blank as the voice Zack usually spoke in.

"You find me arrogant, annoying, tedious," Zack explained as he slide his test kits back into his bag, still not making eye contact with his subordinate. "Most people do. I can't take offense to a fact. I don't take offense to a lot of things, I've noticed."

"I didn't say that," Sara retorted, finally breaking his gaze "you did."

"I prefer," Zack rose, slinging his supplies over his shoulder and making ready to depart, "not to make abrupt conclusions without solid data present yet you seem to have already formulated your own opinion on me."

"How about you shut it and get back to the Gateroom before we both drown," Sara grumbled as they began to head back down the corridor to the stairwell.

Why did she have to be paired up with this inept man. How someone with a blatantly obviously emotionally disability get onto this Expedition was beyond her. No one older then forty-five, no serious handicaps, life threatening allergies or immediate dependents were allowed to travel to Pegasus, they would merely be a determent to the overall mission. Having to care for, provide aide to, even if they were the top scientist in the world they would only be a burden in another galaxy.

So how in the world did Doctor Zack Addy get out here?

Her musing was cut short as the sounds of alarms rang through the corridor, followed by several flashing blue crystals lining the floor.

"What the-"

Before Sara could say another word the grinding release of some far off noise caught their ears, just moments before a heavy cargo door began to roll into position.

Adrenaline started pumping, feet started moving but by the time they had covered the ten feet from where they had been working back to the staircase, the door was soundly in place as several tiny servos locked into place.

"This can't be good," Zack mumbled....

* * *

The sun had finally cleared the horizon, though such a statement could be considered literal in this case. In under the course of an hour and a half it had risen to just short of noon in the sky. Obviously this world's rotation was much faster than any of them had encountered before, night and days were measured in mere hours instead of days.

Davis had to shield his eyes as he came out from the tent, the foggy sky barely obscuring the hot sun burning overhead. Moving across the busy camp he joined Lieutenant Ford standing on an embankment the settlement terminated on.

The young man peeled the binoculars from his face; the sweat from the boiling star in the sky was already making the sweat trickle down the small of his back.

"We didn't even know it was there until the sun came up," the man explained as he passed the equipment over and the Lieutenant-Colonel raised them to his eyes. "Looks like Kabul after we sacked the city back in 2001."

It was a city, or it use to be.

Most of the architecture made him feel as if he was in the old portions of New York City. The buildings were brick; some even still had windows intact. Yet the entire metropolis showed evidence of a devastating attack. Portions of the city were leveled, fields of flat rubble disturbed only by the occasional tree gave no hint to the vast swath of destruction that had claimed it.

The sight of a place so familiar yet decimated sight was unsettling.

"It's definitely shows promise," Davis dropped the binoculars. "It could probably give us some shelter, a nice little valley, more defendable."

Someone cleared their throat behind them and both soldiers turned to find a pair of villagers behind them.

They were near-identical, obviously brothers as they stared at Ford and Davis.

"The City of Tero is not safe," the first man seemed uncomfortable just to say the name.

"The Wraith will come," the other shot a glance at the distance metropolis before quickly turning back with a shiver.

Whatever was in Tero, it was unsettling to the natives.

"And you are?" Paul asked.

"Victhi, son of Ginis," the man on the left gave a short bow before indicating the other of the pair. "This is my brother, Vichon."

"Who are the Wraith?" Ford inquired, hearing the name uttered so much and with a great deal of fear. "The children we encountered in the forest said something about them."

"We have never met anyone who did not know," Vichon seemed almost as if the mere idea was impossible. "Athos has been culled many times by the Wraith. Every world we have been to has endured the same."

"We're new to this galaxy," Paul asked. "Teach us."

"If the Wraith have never touched your world you should go back there," the quartet turned to see Teyla approaching, Doctor Jackson, Weir and Major Sheppard in tow with Halling and the other male villager from before following behind. "The Wraith are everywhere we have traveled. Those who have forgotten them usually have been fortunate enough to lose such terrible moments to the ends of time."

"Doctor?" Davis nodded towards his superior.

"The Athosians has been kind enough to allow our people to settle on the land to the south of here," Elizabeth smiled as graciously thanked her companion. "But are we truly safe from these _Wraith_."

"Our people have long believed that Wraith will come if we venture into the old city," Halling supplied as he regarded the distant settlement, "but it is a belief we have not tested in some time... and do not intend to do so."

"We will not violate hallow ground," Doctor Weir quickly interjected.

"Doctor?" the Lieutenant-Colonel was a bit put off by his mission's sudden cancelation.

"This is the only habitable world we know of outside of Atlantis," the woman soundly explained. "If the Expedition is going to relocate here, insulting the locals customs is only going to cause problems later on. Now I'd like you to scout some of the surrounding grounds for possible habituation. We're going to be staying here for the foreseeable future."

* * *

The ship hanger was filled with people, the three scientists rushing between the dozen or so crafts that filled the octagon shaped bay. Inside one of the cylinder shaped crafts Doctor McKay taped his fiber-optic probe to another one of the control crystals, waiting for his tablet to connect and the ancient coding to starting scrolling down his screen.

"What am I looking for?" Zelenka grumbled in his thick Czech drawl as he continued to poke and prod at another open console at the front of the craft.

"See if you can find life-support system or some kind of launch mechanism," Toshiko yelled from the forward cabin as she continued to bang away on the console. "Maybe we can fly out of here."

"Colonel Carter," McKay tapped his radio as the Ancient text on his screen began to slowly translate, "these ships are a perfect sanctuary, they can hold several people each. Learning how to fly them is going to be our biggest problem."

"_Good_," Sam's voice chirped over the tiny speaker into the scientist's ear, "_I'm on my way down too_."

Down in the Gateroom, Carter grabbed her satchel and made ready to leave. Shooting a nod towards Peter she was nearly to the bottom when suddenly the booming of a locking chevron assaulted her ears.

"Incoming wormhole!" Peter shouted, Carter had already dropped her bag and was racing back up to the control stations.

"Is it-"

Her question died in the air as the man cursed in his light British accent.

"What now?!" Carter asked, but was quickly answered as a dozen different screen began to flash red all over the small control area.

"When Doctor McKay's team entered the ship hanger," he quickly explained, typing at lightning speed on his computer as diagrams of the city flashed over the screen, "it looks like the city started auto-priming that section of the tower for launch. It's putting too much stress on the generators. Now with the Stargate coming online, it's going to cause a-"

His explanation dissolved as the nearby Naquadah generator began to whine louder and louder, the dozens of tiny indicators on the sideways hourglass design flashing and spiraling... before finally offering a sputter and going dark.

Bounding over Peter quickly, the engineer removed a small readout device before turning back to his commanding officer.

In the meantime the wormhole established itself inside the blue and glowing ring of the Stargate. Without pause the remaining contingent of soldiers raised their weapons, even as the shield quickly established over the event horizon.

"This is Specialist Cortez, contacting Atlantis command," the young voice of Carmen faded onto the nearby screen, the image from the MALP was intercut with a rising sun and a thick overlay of cloud cover. "Doctor Weir has negotiated with the leaders of the nearby village and they have agreed to allow our Expedition members shelter."

"Good work," Carter acknowledged, "I'll start sending through our first wave while we work to remove all our equipment. Carter out."

Deactivating the uplink she turned back to her subordinate as he worked away on the Naquadah generator on the Gateroom floor below.

"It's just a short," he supplied as he slapped the readout console back in, "I can have it replaced... in a day or two."

"But in the mean-time," Sam sigh, "we've lost critical time and are back to the same situation as before."

The situation was getting worse by the minute and slowly but surely they were going to loss Atlantis, it was now just hours instead of a day.

"Ms. Blake," Carter's voice echoed like a command presence over the cathedral like room. "Start moving out the first wave in the next half an hour."

"Yes, sir," the diplomatic team leader acknowledged, "Markov, Shen, first wave clear to-"

A deep, bleating alarm suddenly overtook the room... moments before towering blast doors began to fall into place. From the towering windows the framed the room's far wall to over the tiny portals that dotted the roof, dozens of hatches fell into place, like a second skin of chrome over any possible breach in the structure.

"What's going on?" Carter bellowed as the alarms continued to blare.

Rushing back up the steps, Peter slide around his superior and activated a second computer station before making any assumptions.

"The city's going into final self-protect mode," the man explained as he brought up a two-dimensional view of the tower, dozens of different sections now flashing red. "Airtight bulkheads are slamming shut all over the city. We've got people trapped."

Sure enough almost everything below the Gateroom was flashing red, dozens of indicators highlighting the many levels of the facility that were now sealed off from the rest of the structure.

"Would that protect them?" Carter asked as she activated her own computer, receiving the same warning lights and system advisories that were now overcrowding her companions screen.

"Yeah," he shrugged, "but without oxygen circulating their going to be goners in no time."

"Damn!" Samantha cursed, it was just getting worse.

"I'll try to override the system," he offered, already pulling up several screens of near incomprehensible Ancient script, "and get those doors open, but that could just drain more power we don't have."

Again the floor shivered, forcing them all to cast a terrified glance at the surrounding walls and what water predator waited outside.

But more pressing concerns were on their minds, death was just the inevitable finish line.

"What about the hanger bay?" Carter just had to the obvious.

"I have a direct route still established," Peter nodded, "obviously the system is keeping main corridors between critical areas open for the time being but I have no clue how long it will hold."

"If these ships turn out to be our only way out of here, I don't want you waiting too long to get up to the bay," Sam made ready to leave but still had never received a word from her counterpart. Turning back he was still lost deep within his work. "PETER!"

"Yes, of course!" he shouted, waving her own. "Go!"

Nodding as she crossed the control room, Carter cried out again for attention. "IANTO!"

"Yes, Colonel," the dark-haired Welshman popped up from behind one of the supplies crates, a clipboard in one hand, a pencil perched on his ear.

"I need everyone with even a degree of the Ancient gene with me in the launch hanger, now!" the woman ordered, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she made ready to leave.

"Majors Tolinev and Bray," his voice rang over the Gateroom, as each name sounded off a person on the floor below rose to attention. "Captain Christens, Specialist Perkins, Doctors Beckett, Odom, Kusanagi, Hadley and Sheppard. You're with us."

"How do you remember all that?" Peter mumbled, staring over the bridge of his nose as he continued to work on remedying the lockdown.

"I don't," Ianto reported stoically, taping away on his small laptop. "It's on my tablet's quick search."

"IANTO!" Sam shouted. "Move out..."

* * *

It may have been a few hours of terrible heat and already the sun was already beginning to set. Athos' rotation was definitely faster, barely here six-hours and already the sun had finished a circuit across the sky and begun to set below the horizon again.

Yet the heat continued to press them to their limits, forcing several members of the Expedition to abandon their heavier gear as the fog and humidity left them all covered in a sheen of sweat.

"I talked to some of the natives," Davis clipped his radio back to his vest as him and Doctor Brennan stalked the edge of the encampment. "If we can't explore the city they say there's a fortress about six klicks south of here that is not 'taboo'.

"It's worth a look," Temperance suggested, "not to mention the possibility there could be ZPM's there that they don't know or care about."

"What if the Wraith are the enemy the Ancient Hologram lady was talking about?" the Lieutenant-Colonel and Doctor turned as Major Sheppard and Specialist Cortez approached them from the opposing directions.

"All the more reason for us to have a defensible position," Davis advised, "should we have to abandon Atlantis. Stay here with Doctor Weir and find out what you can. Cortez you head back to the Gate, report into Carter. Tell her we'll have answers for her in a few hours."

"Yes sir," the young woman gave a quick salute and was off in a middle jog.

"What bout you, Doctor?" Paul solicited.

"I was finished excavating the remains we found by the Gate," the young woman imposed, the confused expression on her face may have been vague but it spoke volumes to a man like Paul. "The results were peculiar."

"Explain?" he pressed.

"My guess is that she's been there for several centuries," Brennan declared, "probably around the time the Athosian city was leveled. She appears to have extensive damage to the sternum and rampant phosphate depletion. She also was severely malnourished when she died but strangely had access to some medical care, evident from several professionally healed bone fractures."

"She could have been a victim of the Wraith," both of them turned as Kanaan approached them, leading some kind of a cross between a horse and a komodo dragon begin him. "Their feeding destroys the body and the soul, eventually leading to the most horrific death. All we can hope is she died quickly."

"What is that thing?" Paul was unsettled by the almost dinosaur like creature the Athosian had with him.

"This is Chil," the man affectionately patted the creatures neck, though it was nearly a foot above the already tall man. "You're people have probably never seen a Athosian Yex."

The Yex looked like it had come right out of Jurassic Park, the close proximities it held to Velicoraptors was almost too uncanny. Standing over six feet tall with a up-curved head and long jaw framed with widely spaced incisors, its most notable difference between its Earth-bound counterpart was the lack of a pair of clawed arms, instead it had four, long, triple-jointed legs the composed the majority of its extreme height.

If it weren't for the thin layer of sparse, coarse hair that covered its body, it probably could have crossed as a dinosaur. Obviously evolution on Athos had started to take the Yex in a new direction.

"She is beautiful," Brennan slowly reached a hand out and quickly shooting a glance at Kanaan who offered a smiling nod, touched a hand slowly to the animal's face. She expected it to snap at her or pull back but it instead leaned into her touch, surprisingly affectionate. "Almost like the one's in China."

"Doctor?" Paul asked.

"I'm an anthropologist but some of my first work was back in the 90's helping out on an archeological dig in China," Temperance explained. "We unearthed several well-preserved Velociraptor skeletons... think of it's as Chil's much, much smaller cousins."

"You have Yex on Earth too?" Kanaan smiled, suddenly finding something in common with these strangers. "I have been to many worlds but only Athos has creatures like Chil."

"No," Brennan barely noticed the drop of Kanaan's smile. "Around 65-million years ago an asteroid hit Earth. The entire superoder of dinosauria were rendered extinct."

When the Lieutenant-Colonel noticed the confused look on the Athosian's face he quickly supplied a dumb down response.

"They all died," he smirked.

"How unfortunate," Kanaan rubbed a loving hand over Chil's hide, the animal was quick to purr from the attention. "Our tribe is meant to watch for Wraith scouting parties from the Stargate so we have an entire stable of Yex with riders who are ready to be dispatched at a moment's notice to warn our fellow settlements."

Hitching a foot into the saddle and pulled himself in one strong sweep. "Well, I am off to contact the Rary. Chil can make it but I hope to beat the rains. Good day to you both."

And he was off, both doctor and soldier were astounded as the Yex was of in a bolt of color, swiftly disappearing into the far off forest, dodging in and out of the trees with amazing ease. Barely thirty-seconds later Kanaan was gone from sight.

His departure was not unnoticed, from around the edge of the camp Teyla watched him go, a barely recognizable flash before it was gone.

She shouldn't have cared, he had a duty to do, so did she. So why was it every time he disappeared off beyond the horizon she had a sinking feeling he wasn't going to return.

"Teyla!" her reprieve disappeared as Major Sheppard came jogging up to her, trying to catch his breath "Doctor Weir and Jackson went ahead with Halling to get ready for the evacuation. Guess it's just you and me."

"Your leader is wise," Teyla leaned against one of the support poles of the nearest tent, her eyes however traveled over to where Kanaan departed, where Doctor Brennan and the one called Davis stood, "but the warrior treats us like unkept children."

"Do I?" Sheppard asked.

"No," she admitted after a pause. Turning back to regard him, Teyla found her being stared at by alarming innocent eyes and a tilted head before she continued. "You truly cannot return to your world.

The question caused a pang of doubt in Sheppard's eyes was all the answer she needed.

The pain, agony, loss, she had seen it in many who had lost their homes to the Wraith and though it was different for their Earth people, there home still existed, they were lost forever with no foreseeable chance to return.

"We used all our power to come here because we wanted to reach Atlantis," the Major tried to brush it off. "Nothing remains to return home."

"And you know nothing of the Wraith," again her question was met with a detached expression. "Then there is something you must see. Follow me..."

* * *

"Try it now!"

At McKay's yelp Derek hit the console again, the crystal station glowing and beeping under his tutorage as readouts and screens ebbed and flowed.

"I'm getting some power fluctuations," Sheppard shouted to the back cabin, "It's still seems like its fighting me."

"Depolarize the secondary control crystals," Sam exclaimed as she taped her probe to another row of computer chip like crystals. "I think I've managed to reprogram them properly. Try it now."

"You think?" Rodney chirped.

If her calculations were off by an inch, they could cross the crystal meant to just seal the vessel's door with its self-destruct. Since they could barely comprehend this operating system any move made soley on faith could cost them their lives.

"Just do it, McKay!" Carter shouted and the scientist quickly scurried off.

"Activating control systems..." he paused just for an instance and Sam could swear she could see the man quickly utter a short pray before he spoke his next sentence, "...now."

Power hummed through the ship and for a moment they all froze in place expecting the worse... until the overhead lights came alive and sudden a holographic HUD-display flashed over the cockpit window.

"Gateship is online!" Derek clapped as the ship came alive around him, power coursing through every surface as the vessel surged with energy for the first time in millions of years.

"Gateship?" Toshiko gave him an incredulous look from the copilot chair beside him, looking up from her laptop.

"It's a ship," Rodney shouted again from the back cabin, "it goes through the Stargate."

"That is the stupidest name I've ever-"

"Can it!" Samantha yelled, overshadowing Toshiko's retorted before it could go any further. "I'm in command; I choose what everything is named. Looks like the internal inertia system was over-compensating. Toshiko, take this crystal around to each of the teams. Install it, download the updated data and then move to the next."

Doctor Sato left her chair and extending a hand to grab the crystal in question, nearly landed on her face when the floor of the hanger gave another louder, violent rumble. Reaching her hand out just in time she managed to steady herself, but concern for the scientist was lost as a deep groaning wash of water could be heard far off in the distance.

They all remained stark still, waiting for what could be coming next. A tidal wave, a sudden whoosh of water. But again the air returned to normal, the lights came back and for a brief second the fear of an untimely death seemed to be quelled for a time.

"You better move it," Colonel Carter pressed the young woman out of the ship, control crystal in hand, before tapping her radio for a status report. "Peter, we've cleared the first ship. You can send at least ten people up. Any luck fixing those sealed sections?"

"Negative," Sam frowned as Peter continued to report. "I can confirm eight people trapped including the soldiers sent down to the ZPM station, Doctor Simonova and two soldiers a level below the control room. We also can't raise Doctor Addy or Specialist Sidle but the city computer says their section is in lockdown."

Carter cursed inwardly to herself.

Eight people, who were simply out trying to solve the mystery of this city were now trapped with the almost certain chance of being left behind when they had to abandon this undersea metropolis.

"Keep trying," she repeated tight lipped though none too optimistic. "In the meantime, any word from Lieutenant-Colonel Davis?"

"They say the natives are allowing us sanctuary," Grodin relayed, "and their scouting a possible camp ground right now.

"Good, keep me up to date. Carter out," she sighed at the first ounce of good news in a long time. Turning back to their would be pilot and doctor, she began to pack up her kit. "I'm going to head onto the next ship. McKay, once everyone is on, shut the door and wait for orders."

"Yes," McKay nodded though she was already bouncing down the back ramp of the ship before he really had answered her. Letting out a long breath he had forgotten he was holding he moved back to the cockpit and threw himself back into one of the well cushioned chairs. Turning he glanced at his companion who seemed deep in thought but not frozen in actions. "So your Sheppard's brother?"

"Only in blood," the surgeon mumbled, absently tapping a finger on the flight station, seeing what did what.

"Well that explains why you both have the Ancient gene," Rodney shrugged. "But wow does your brother have it stronger. Did things with the Ancient Chair I never even thought were possible. Seems like a... um nice guy-"

"How about we cut the conversation for when we're not in a life or death situation?" Derek didn't look at him, didn't even bother to glare at him but Rodney knew somehow he had probably struck a chord of bad family relations.

"Fine..."

* * *

Athos was a hilly world and John hated ground to start with.

He was a pilot, he liked being in the endless expanse of air where rolling mountains, winding rivers and cumbersome trees were all so far below you they just appear to be pin pricks on the ground.

Teyla however had grown up in these woods, she easily bounded over swells in the ground, snaked through the underbrush and launched herself over a small gully that to Sheppard could be the largest canyon he had ever crossed.

"How much further is this place?" he tried to sound strong, to achieve some level of masculinity but the fact he sounded so whiny even he himself winced a bit at how desperate he sounded.

"Not far," Teyla turned to offer him a smile. "We could stop for a break if you like?"

He wound have responded with some snappy comeback but instead his foot managed to find the one dip in the ground. The resulting transfer of inert and sudden halt of movement sent him stumbling.

Almost certainly he would have fallen on his face, if it weren't for the hand that quickly grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him back up.

The foreign fingers had come from behind him; Teyla was standing a good ten feet in front of him. Turning his slowly he saw the smiling lips and almost wished he had fallen on his face.

"Major," Carmen couldn't even try to suppress leer, "what are you doing out this far?"

"You like appearing from the shadows for no reason," he grumbled, rising back up and fixing his uniform, "don't you?"

"It kills times," the juvenile winked before shooting a glance toward Teyla. "You seem to be '_establishing_' diplomatic relations with the native population."

"This one is with you," Teyla had dropped down into a defensive stance, awaiting the worse this young girl could offer. For some reason she appeared more deadly than her youth belied.

"Teyla, meet Carmen," the Major quickly introduced to alleviate any possible fight. "She likes to hide."

"Never had my job description simplified in such a way," Carmen murmured before turning back to the Athosian. "Yeah, I specialize in stealth and hiding."

Their guide seemed none to convinced, in fact she actually took a step back as if expecting the worse.

"If she is a runner then she must leave quickly," Teyla barely spoke above a whisper, though the terror in her voice was evidence she was liking the situation. "She could bring the Wraith down upon us all if she doesn't depart quickly."

"What's a runner?" Carmen quietly uttered.

"She's not a... whatever," Sheppard tried to find the best explanation yet came up short. "Think of her like a hunting scout."

Seeing the confused look that crossed Teyla's face Carmen knew the woman did still not understand. Ignorance always tended to bred one reaction in primitive humans, violence.

Better to solve it quickly and simply.

"I understand the Athosians are a hunting people," Carmen offered a genuine smile and a bow. "I welcome a fellow warrior of the chase."

"I am honored and welcome," the act of respect seemed to garner bow of gratitude from the Athosian woman. "If you wish, I was showing Major Sheppard the ruins. Accompany us?"

"I'd be delighted," Carmen smiled, though the groan from Major Sheppard only made her lips spread broader.

Off they were again, trudging across the dense underbrush towards a destination only Teyla knew about. They were more than a mile into the forest, the tree branches becoming so thick the sunlight was soon drown out into an eerily lifeless dusk.

"Where the heck did you learn that?" John uttered to Carmen, who had stayed by his size as Teyla led the way.

"My father was a Spaniard and an international spy," the girl explained, taking care to avoid some of the fallen deadwood. "Think of James Bond with the suave of Antonio Bandera's."

"Rather not," Sheppard grimaced.

"Well how do you think he met my mother?" Carmen winked. "So romantic that a woman he was sent to eliminate instead becomes the love of his life. They use to use their story as a bedtime-"

"I think I just vomited," John couldn't help but suppress a mock shudder.

"Oh you and my little brother Juni would get along so well," Carmen laughed... though nearly stumbled into Teyla in the act.

"We have arrived..."

* * *

Her fist slammed into door for the hundredth time, not even a echo resounded off the thought metallic barrier as it continued to hold its place without interruption or sign of budging.

"It is a total impossibility that you will be able to move that obstruction," Zack had taken to sitting against one of the far off walls, his pack laying between his legs.

Sara however was unconvinced, still continuing to bang her fist against the locked door.

"If you have any better ideas I'm open to them," Sara shouted back, "I am more than open to them."

"Our best chances of rescue are to wait for the people up in the Gate room to find the proper controls and let us out," Zack offered, though his detached monotone only managed to annoy Sara further.

"An entire ocean is bearing down on their heads," Sara gave the door another punch, "I think rescuing two CSI's stuck behind a door rates pretty low."

"It's probable that these are water tight doors meant to seal in the event of lost of containment," the man noted. "Since the stairwell runs the full length of the tower it would be logical to seal it off in case of a breach to keep water from surging up to the Stargate."

Sara landed her fingers against the hard metal surface yet again, this time however grimaced as she pulled back to see the blood splashed across her knuckles.

Seeing that most of the skin was gone from her hand and not even a dent made in her progress to move the airtight door, she abandoned her attempt and in a huff smacked her back into the nearest wall and slide down to the ground.

"But if the city is locking down the shaft to protect the Gate from flooding," Sara asked, "doesn't that mean we're on the side that's going to flood."

"That assumption is correction... and disturbing," he nodded, his unchanging volume giving his voice an almost computer like quality.

Sara let a sigh roll over her lips before she slowly started to rise again, hoping to make some more effort on the door. Maybe there was the possibility of an odd air vent or a service hatch she could open up.

"The statistical possibility," Zack swiftly interjected, "we are going to drown versus being rescued are around-"

"You finish that sentence," she warned, "and I swear I will break the nearest window and drown us both."

Sliding back down the wall, Sara heaved another groan, rubbing her soar and bleeding knuckles.

"I'm sorry," Zack breathed out slowly. "I am good with numbers, it can actually quiet relaxing because numbers are much more reliable and less prone to unpredictable change."

"There numbers, predictable is implied," Sara mumbled under her breath, fixing him with a stare and just begging him to be quiet.

"Again more evidence," Zack quickly supplied, "to the fact that you don't like me."

"I don't not like you..." Sara wheezed a response. She was trapped with this kid, just starting a fight would waste precious energy. But still shoe could keep her mouth shut. "It's just I don't get how they let you on this Expedition."

"I am trained forensic anthropologist specializing in bone damage from a multitude of weapons," he was quick to list off his achievements again. "Doctor Brennan requested superficially that I be on this mission."

"What I meant to say was," Sara took a deep breath, knowing that she shouldn't but still had to at the same time, "given your mental condition I don't know how you got on this mission."

"I don't see how my mental capacity is of concern," he shrugged, actually just considered a bit of information that was really a nuisance over anything else. "I have a genius IQ of 163, two doctorates and have studied the Stargate mission packet extensively. If you are however asking about my autism spectrum disorder I was cleared by both medical and mental doctors at the SGC cleared me."

She was quiet, and though Zack may have a very thin idea one what was the proper conduct for social situations, he knew discussing one's mental condition was not among them. If he were back at the Jeffersonian Institute he could have quickly consulted his collective information against his experts, Hodgins and Angela would be more than happy to supply him with the correct etiquette.

But Hodgins and Angela were several million light-years away, in a different galaxy for that matter. The chances of him ever returning were around eight-hundred billion to-

He had to stop doing that, Angela said his reliance on numbers was blinding him to actually dealing with the people who he assigned those numbers to. Jack however would encourage him to confront his problem head on, be a man as he use to say.

"You seem to have a problem with me in particular," Zack didn't really know what he was doing but he had some experienced with blind experiments. Maybe the results would help him understand Ms. Sidle's hostility toward him. "You have a problem with anyone in a compromised mental capacity."

"I am not prejudice against people with mental handicaps," Sara was quick to defend herself and fell right into his ploy.

"I never said handicap," Zack knew he had her, what he was going to do with it was beyond him. But it was always best to follow a successful line of questioning. "Generally, I would assume you have some kind of personal trauma but as I have been told my grasp of human nature is lacking... severely."

"Can you just shut up," her voice ebbed in fury and Zack knew an aggressive response was usually a defense mechanism.

He could have pushed for more but even if he exercised daily and was deceptively strong, he doubted in this confined space with a possibly limited oxygen supply and with the possibility they'd have to exert themselves to escape, the chances of him being successful in disabling Sara and ultimately surviving were too small or ambiguous to calculate.

A new strategy of confusing Sidle would probably result in a greater return.

"Did you know that I use to sing?" he stated quickly, his childlike eyes barely paying Sara any attention as they drifted to one of the nearby windows, watching the strange flounder like squids that drifted by.

"What?" Sara was a bit knocked off her game by the sudden change in subject.

"As a child," he continued, his voice becoming a flutter as he explained. "My parents felt that singing lessons would help integrate me socially."

"And how'd that work out for you?" Sara tried to suppress a smile, she really did, yet the laughter was already starting to rise in her voice.

"I was quite good," he tip his head as he remembered the memory. "I received acclaim and a new stature amongst the parents of my peers."

"What about your actual peers?" she asked, already knowing the answer however.

"My mother said they were jealous," Zack answered, a dejected look appearing on his face as the memory finally reach climax and the pain of it sunk in, "and not to worry about it. They were unaware that I had a mild case of Asperger Syndrome until I was almost fifteen and after that they treated me as if I was a high functioning autistic. After that I would almost welcome their attempts to socially integrate me."

"You're parent's only did those things because they thought it would help you," Sara shrugged. She understood both from her time as a CSI in Vegas and even personal experience, a parent's sometimes blind attempts to make their child

"And what about yours?" the question was short, to the point and the glare Zack received was enough to say he had struck a nerve.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the denial was quick and to the point.

"People with Asperger's may have a qualitative deficiency in human interaction," Zack conjectured like he was giving his thesis statement, "but we have an all absorbing interest with the world around us. To better understand my condition I became interested in gauging my family's reaction.

"Like you would an experiment," Sara grimaced.

"A sufficient analogy," Zack nodded. "Yes, my mother responded by crying excessively when I was not around... my father became depressed and reacted with violence. He was a good man but given the size of our immediate family and the stress of his work his patience was beginning to fray.

Too many years as a CSI, seeing too many child abuse cases forced her to ask the next obvious question with a level of reservation. "Did he..."

"Hit me or anyone?" Zack eyes locked with hers, unwavering and unceasing. "Never. When he pushed my brother one night for being late he immediately backed off and began to seek psychological care, ironically through the same doctor who had diagnosed me. Given your hostility I'm guessing you have endured something similar."

"You're not going to get me to open up about my feelings, so cut it out," Sara snapped.

She was fed up, sitting here for so long, her back was hurting laying up against this wall and the conversation was going in a direction she'd prefer it didn't.

Pushing off the ground, she slipped her pack on and started to move on down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Zack bounced off the floor, trying see what specifically had enticed her to leave their sanctuary.

"I'm done just sitting around doing nothing," Sara shouted as she was already rounding the corner of the corridor and off into the bowels of the central tower. "If I am going to drown in a mythical city, I'm not going to just sit around and wait for it to happen. You coming?

"We will have a greater chance of survival if we stay where they know where we are," Zack shouted but as Sara began to disappear from view he had only a split second to make his next decision. "Wait for me..."

* * *

Winding in and out of the soft limestone, the caves we a maze of natural formations. Most of the rocks were weathered down from an underground river, the remains of which may have trickled down to merely a bubbling creak but from the sheer size of some of the caverns it had once been a force of hydro-power.

They had entered the caves about twenty-minutes ago, hiking over the steeper portions of the terrain and through several large sand covered grottos. Occasionally an empty bucket or abandoned piece of furniture dotted the ground, hints that at one time the subterranean world was once inhabited.

"I use to play here as a child," Teyla construed as their excursion took them deeper underground. "I believe this is where the survivors hid from the Wraith during the last great attack."

Snatching a stick from the ground, Teyla raised the stick into the air and quickly withdrew a tiny box from her pocket.

But Sheppard was one step quicker than her.

"Let me," John offered the lighter from his vest pocket.

But instead of the click of his lighter, it was Teyla's device, which seemed to fix a spiral pair of lasers into the edge of the stick that soon sparked a tiny flame.

"We mastered fire long ago," the woman declared before she turned and continued deeper down one of the side tunnels.

"Smooth, Sheppard," Carmen quipped as she switched on her rifles sight light and moved on, past the perturbed Major.

Deeper they went, the air slowly growing wet and cold as the narrow passage slowly started level out again. By now the walls had actually started to smooth and at several points a man-made support beam stabbed into the roof.

Sheppard cast a light against one of the walls and was greeted by dozens of rock carvings, painted murals and intercut designs that seemed to cover every open space of rock.

Onward through the endless kaleidoscope of art they walked, until something crunched loudly under Carmen's foot.

Gently pulling back her boot, the glint of something metallic in the sand covered floor caught her eyes. Reaching downward her fingers closed around a thin gold chain and pulling up a sparking circular pendant spun in the cold air.

Though thanks to Carmen's unseen misstep it was dented and crushed, the hings bent at an obscure angle and the face of the jewelry was almost concave from the heel of the woman's foot.

"If I just broke a priceless cultural artifact," Cortez tried to joke about her possible offense but still shot a worried glance towards Teyla, "I'm saying sorry right now."

"I lost this years ago," the Athosian gingerly touched the piece of jewelry. "How did you…?"

"It was just lying over there," Carmen spoke up, the tiny creation of metal flashing in the light of her flashlight. As she pried open the clasp however the tiny decoration gave a sudden spark. Squeaking she quickly dropped it, the necklace hit the ground with a thud as Carmen gave Teyla a confused look. "Was that supposed to happen?"

"It is said what is lost in the caves should be left lost," Teyla bantered.

"Good advice," Sheppard nodded, changing the subject as he rolled his flashlight over the nearby cave paintings. "Someone's been busy."

"The drawings in the caves are extensive," Teyla joined him, throwing her own flame over the drawings, "many must date back thousands of years or more. The oldest are from when the Wraith ravaged our world for the first time and cast out the Ancestors."

One in particular seemed to grab his attention. A mighty ship seemed to hang over a burning series of towers, long tendrils of flames seeming to reach down to the imaginary ground as tiny stick figures ran for their lives.

"Does this represent the destruction of your city?" Sheppard asked.

"This drawing far predates that," Teyla shook her head as she swiveled her torch over the other paintings that consumed the walls. "When the City of Tero was destroyed, my father's, father's mother was a mere child and even then these caves were ancient."

"So what?" John inquired, though he quickly noticed another three repeats on the surrounding walls, each more faded then the next but still showing the same scene. "Is it like someone knew it was going to happen?"

"I believe it happens again and again," she explained, the tone in her voice growing grave. "The Wraith allow our kind to grow in numbers and when that number reaches a certain point they return to cull their human herd. Sometimes a few hundred years will pass before they awaken again. We've visited many, many worlds. I know of none untouched by the Wraith. The last great holocaust was five generations ago, still they return in smaller numbers to remind us of their power."

"It's a hell of a way to live," John commented.

Just wondering what it was like living under the heel of a relentless enemy after so long as a member in a military that held ultimate dominance as the premier super power on its world, was mind blogging.

"It's like in Spain with the Moors," both the Major and Athosian shot her a foggy gaze and she knew an explanation was needed. "My parents came from two different _tribes_ on Earth. Father came from a land on the Iberian Peninsula called Spain, which over a period of five hundred years was fought, conquered and liberated by my ancestors from the kingdom of Hispania and Muslim invaders from across the Strait of Gibraltar. It was one of the bloodiest time in our region's history."

"Your tribes may have experience such hardship in the past but ours are enduring it now," relayed the alarming news with a sense of urgency. "We move our hunting camps around, we try to teach our children not to live in fear... but it is hard. Some of us can sense the Wraith coming, which gives us warning. But our tribes grow smaller and smaller every year. Winter has claimed many, plague nearly whipped us out three harvests ago and the Wraith scouting parties are starting to become bolder... our numbers are dwindling to extinction. We should go it will be dark soon..."

* * *

"Man days are short here," Lieutenant Aiden Ford mumbled as he finished another circuit around the Athosian Stargate.

They had been here barely a few hours and the sun had already risen, crossed the sky and set again in barely half that time. It was nothing short of weird and the change in temperature was almost disturbing.

An hour ago the sun had been high in the sky, the air was nearly cooking with heat and then as quickly it had plunged below the horizon and the temperature began to become incredibly chilled.

"_Major Sheppard_," a voice crackled over his radio, interrupting Ford's musing, "_this is Lieutenant-Colonel Davis, come in_."

He had been hoping the Major would return before the Lieutenant-Colonel would noticed but now it looked like he was going to be the one that had to rat the soldier out.

"Davis this is Lieutenant Ford," Aiden tapped his radio, "Major Sheppard's out of radio range at the moment."

"_Where is he then_?" the man didn't sound happy, he didn't seemed pleased either.

"I think Teyla wanted him to see something," Ford tried to make it appear as if the Major was being diplomatic, though given his attitude towards authority, not to mention his good looks, most of the military portion of the Expedition figured he was probably interested in one thing with the Athosian leader. But he had to make it appear it was all within proper conduct for the time being. "Cortez accompanied them."

He waited for a response, waited for Davis to yell at him, to berate him for being so lax and not informing him the moment the Major had decided to leave. Instead any possible response was drown out as the Stargate behind him activated with a trembling whoosh.

"Defensive positions!" Ford roared, Lieutenant Smite and Captain Connor dropping down onto their knees and instantly pointing their rifles towards the Gate. Grabbing his radio he quickly relayed the sudden activation of the device to his superior. "Sir, we have Gate activity here!"

It could possibly be a wormhole from Atlantis arriving early. They were already crunched for time and maybe something had gone wrong and they had to evacuate immediately.

Or it could be a hundred other things.

Something came screaming out of the Gate, a long, massive shape that seemed to scream an unearthly howl. It was a ship, shaped like a jagged piece of glass or a dart, that quickly rose skyway, its hot red engines quickly becoming a dot among the night stars.

Only the scream of its horrible engine told Ford it had not joined the stars but was quickly racing off in the distant horizon.

He made a grab for his radio but before he could hit the activation button and another ship blasted from the Gate... then another that rolled and banked up into the night.

"SIR!" he shouted into his radio, already grabbing his radio and trying to sight the far off ships. "Three bandits headed your way!"


End file.
